


The Art of Crime

by samwise_baggins, Steve-Bucky-Stucky (Chemical30), Stucky1980



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Political Animals, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Coercion, Crime Scenes, Domestic Violence, M/M, Medical Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Stalking, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-18 13:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 84,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16119311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwise_baggins/pseuds/samwise_baggins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chemical30/pseuds/Steve-Bucky-Stucky, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stucky1980/pseuds/Stucky1980
Summary: Dealing with a severely handicapped ward and a very abusive ex, Bucky is severely injured at a crime scene and wakes with little memory of what occurred. He has to work with a police crime artist to recreate the scene so he can try to stop it from happening again.





	1. A Matter of Crime

  
  


Arm scraping across old brick, forehead pressed to his own muscular forearm, James _’Bucky’_ Barnes concentrated on his breathing until he felt another deep, hard thrust verging on the point of pain. "Jesus, man, take it easy!" he rasped out while the man fucking him merely grunted, easing back for a couple of strokes before once again getting too rough. "Damn! You're gonna tear me up, Rumlow! What the fuck's wrong with . . . ah!"

A particularly painful thrust accompanied his partner's searching hand - - wrapping his fingers in Bucky's shoulder length brown tresses and yanking hard. "Shut the fuck up, Barnes! Or I'll gag you!" and Rumlow smacked Bucky's ass hard.

Bucky bit his arm to keep from crying out, trying to think of anything but the man rutting behind him. When had it gotten this bad? They used to have good times, hadn't they? Sure, they'd never gone on any real dates, or held hands, or even kissed, but it hadn't always been back alley quickies while Brock Rumlow got his rocks off and left Bucky more or less needy . . . or not so much these days. In fact sex with Brock hadn't been exciting or satisfying for a few months . . . and Bucky hadn't popped a boner for his partner in just as long.

"Shit!" Rumlow grunted and pulled out to rip off his condom and toss it onto the dark, dirty pavement.

Bucky began to turn only to be pushed roughly against the wall once more, listening to the sound of Brock grunting and stroking himself. "Hey . . . no bareback, Rumlow!" he ground out, cheek scraping the hard brick.

"I . . . ain't . . . gonna . . . fuck . . . you . . . bare . . . Barnes!" Brock grunted with each tug then growled as he came, shooting hot ropey jets over Bucky's ass, legs, and lower back. After awhile, he stepped back, letting Bucky push away from the wall. "There, not so bad."

Bucky felt filthy . . . and not just because he was covered with drying, sticky cum. Lately it seemed the only time Brock wanted to have sex was when he had Bucky up against a dirty alley wall . . . and Brock was the only one getting off. The other man had stopped giving Bucky a reach around or even asking if he wanted it. Nowadays, Brock told him "now," and Bucky obeyed.

"Here, clean yourself up, Barnes. You look like a tramp." Brock threw a soiled gym towel at Bucky and smirked. "But then you always were a tramp, weren't you?"

Grey-blue eyes narrowing, Bucky picked the towel up off the ground and shook his head. "Why do you . . ." but he never got the question out because the radio in the car broke into their privacy. The woman's voice sounded calm and almost disinterested as she announced the code for a robbery at the local gas station. When she tacked on " _one DOA_ " Bucky grabbed for his trousers and briefs, making a face as he had to pull his clothes on without cleaning himself up.

Brock tucked his cock back into his pants and turned, slapping the hood of his company car. "Time to party, Barnes," he called as he leaned in through the open window and answered the dispatcher, saying "Detective Rumlow. We'll be right there. Keep the body warm."

"Really tasteless, Rumlow," Bucky gave his partner a glare before walking around the car and easing into the shotgun seat. Damn, he was sore, and he burned! The sex had definitely been getting rougher. He glanced over at the other detective and grit his teeth. _’Who'm I kidding? I haven't had sex in months. I've just been getting fucked up the ass.’_ He glared at the innocent little white _good luck cat_ on Brock’s dashboard, a souvenir from Chinatown.

Damn. It had seemed to start well when he'd just made detective a couple years before. He'd been assigned as Brock's trainee, and the good looking senior detective had taken him for drinks a week in; something Bucky had needed with his piling worries over his little brother’s health. Bucky had wound up drunk and in Brock's bed, and they'd been together ever since . . . not that anyone even TJ, his brother, knew - - there were strict regulations about fraternization, especially between junior and senior staff. But seeing Brock had been rather like an adventure, clandestine and dark, a tension breaker. And the sex hadn't been totally bad back then. At least Brock had always made sure Bucky left feeling good. At first. Now . . . well, it wasn't the first time in recent months that Bucky'd been called to duty covered in spunk and dirt, sporting brush burn from being fucked against the station's back wall.

"Rumlow," Bucky began, needing to confront the man about his recent selfishness - - but he didn't get the chance.

Brock merely gave him a glare, brown eyes flickering back to the street as he started the car. He lit a cigarette and flicked the sirens on. Taking a drag, he waved his hand. "Shut up, Barnes. No pillow talk on a case." Then the dark-haired Brock fumbled to turn his dash-lights on. They faltered and he grumbled, "Shit . . ." giving the light housing a couple of whacks, which seemed to work; Rumlow sat back and grinned, always in a better mood after a good fuck. "Yeah, we're on the job!" He pulled the car from the alley and onto the darkened streets.

Rolling his eyes, Bucky stared out the window at the darkish sidewalks, stuttering street lights, passing shadowed alleys. Life had been so much . . . better when he'd been a stupid, no-pay beat cop, even with his brother’s mental problems. Now, Bucky couldn't see a way out of the downward spiral his life had taken. The only thing he truly lived for _was_ TJ. Running a hand through his non-regulation hair, he groaned. "Shit! Where's my band?" He began to frantically look for something, anything, to tie the tangled mass back so he wouldn't get written up yet again.

Brock laughed and held up his right arm, displaying the rubber-band around his wrist. "I got it, honey, don't you worry." When Bucky reached for it, the other detective shook his head and laughed, flicking his cigarette ash at Bucky. "Don't I always take care of my partner?"

When Bucky didn't answer, Brock stopped laughing. He glanced at Bucky from the corner of his eye and said, tone dropping in annoyance, "I said _’don't I take good care of you’_?"

"Yeah," Bucky sighed, letting his hand drop. "Yeah, you do." He paused but knew the other man wanted more so added the typical, "you take care of me real good."

"Damn straight I do!" Brock held out his arm and allowed Bucky to slip off the band. "Use the vanity mirror, Barnes, or it'll look like you've been playing dime-street hooker again."

Doing as instructed, Bucky tried to use the small, dimly lit mirror to see his tangled hair. With a sigh, he grumbled "I think I'll just cut it off."

Brock's hand grasping the ponytail and pulling roughly shut Bucky up. "Don't you fucking think about it, Barnes!" Brock let go of Bucky's hair, but not before he got cigarette ash in it. The Italian-born detective didn't seem to notice. "I need something to hold onto when I ride your sweet ass." And the man laughed again as Bucky tried desperately to make himself presentable . . . and not snap at his partner in disgust.

If they hadn't been going to a case, he would seriously consider telling Brock to pull over and let him walk. He needed time to sort things out . . . but it wouldn't happen that night, he was certain.

As the unmarked car pulled to a stop at the gas station, Bucky let the belt unfasten. He opened the door even before Brock had stopped the car, stepping to the pavement as quickly as he could. He shook his head at the sight of glass, blood, and other debris all over in front of the destroyed plate-glass window. Perhaps five people stood huddled to one side, beyond the police tape being put up, while another ten or so had been herded slightly away by a pair of beat cops. With that many witnesses to calm down and interview, and an entire outside-inside crime scene, Bucky knew he wouldn’t be getting home that night. He pulled out his cellphone.

“Hey, Barnes!” Brock called out as he hurried to get out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him, “no texting on the job!”

“Gotta let the nurse know I won’t be home, Rumlow.” Bucky shot his partner a look of annoyance. “He’ll need to stay extra.”

“Still don’t know why you don’t put the kid in a home. Probably be happier,” Brock grumbled, his dark eyes scanning the scene in front of him.

Finishing his text, Bucky put his phone away and strode beside Brock. “TJ _has_ a home, and he _is_ happy. I’ll take the interviews. The body’s all yours.” Before his partner could find something to gripe about, Bucky detoured to interview the witnesses.

The older man’s face flashed with annoyance and he opened his mouth to call Bucky back. However, the coroner cut off his attempt by steering Brock towards the body and starting to explain what the preliminary cause of death was.

It took three hours before Bucky could get away from the group of witnesses, all with nearly the same story: a man in a ski mask demanded money from the clerk, who refused, then shot the clerk and shot out the window. He then ran off to slip into an indistinguishable dark grey or blue car with its lights off. The car sped off into the night.

Tucking away his card case after handing the last witness his business card in case she remembered more, Bucky let out a ragged sigh and winced in stiff pain. He walked over to Brock, studying the internal scene by then. “Man in mask, shot things up and ditched in a dark car. A second must have been driving.”

“Take a _wild_ guess what the cause of death was? Sherlock, here,” Brock gestured to the coroner with an annoyed wave of his hand, “thinks he figured it out.” The older man rolled his eyes, then glanced to the body before turning his dark eyes to Bucky. It was clear in the man’s face that he and Bucky would be having a little _chat_ later.

Glancing down at the body, which had not been removed since he was dead in an active scene, and had yet to be covered since any witnesses were now outside, along with any media, Bucky let his eyes rove over the corpse of the young night clerk. Noting the bullet hole in the forehead and the missing back of the skull from the exit wound, Bucky said, “heart attack at losing his mind?” It was a dark joke, but Bucky hoped to cheer up Brock a bit.

Snorting, only looking slightly amused, Brock nodded, “I’d say. So, perp shoots up the store, kills the poor sap, and then runs.” The detective glanced back down at the dead young man, frowning.

“Has the crew found anything missing?” Bucky sighed. “The witnesses said he robbed the clerk but nothing about other things.”

“Cash is missin’ from the register and,” using a gloved hand, Brock turned the corpse’s left wrist to show a tanline in the shape of a watch, “looks like there’s a watch missin’.”

Frowning, Bucky shook his head, “could’ve left it home tonight, broken band or something. Gotta check with his widow. No one saw the perp take anything personal, but they usually miss things.” Bucky looked at the coroner. “ID?”

“Got a lot more trainin’ to do, sport,” Brock snarked, gesturing to the nametag in clear sight that read ‘ _Gregory_ ’.

Since Brock knew they couldn’t rely on outer clothing for a name, but needed a photographic identification, Bucky knew he was headed for a very bad _talking to_ later. Brock was pissed at him and trying to humiliate him in front of the coroner and the beat cops. “Since Gregory is the other clerk I interviewed outside, chances are this man isn’t him.”

“ID in wallet identifies the victim as a Kenneth Jones,” the coroner frowned, looking between the two detectives.

Bucky wished the man hadn’t said that out loud; things would just get worse for him now. He tried to play it off, “thanks for testing me, Sarge. Did I pass?”

Rising to his feet, Brock shot his partner a glare and rolled his eyes, “not by a long shot, sport.”

Nodding, Bucky turned to survey the gathering of evidence. “No one got a plate, but there’s a camera facing the pumps. Might have something on that. Camera behind the counter, too.”

“Well,” Brock drawled, sounding irritated, “what are you waitin’ for?” He gestured to the security set up with an over-dramatic hand gesture.

Blinking in surprise, Bucky asked, to be sure, “you think I’m ready for collecting? You always wanna do that.” He pulled out gloves of his own, heading for the camera set up.

“Jesus Christ,” Brock huffed, sounding more and more upset with each passing moment. “Swear I’m dealing with a idiot or somethin’,” the older man grumbled and bumped Bucky’s shoulder as he moved to the security system. It seemed that Brock had only offered Bucky the job of collecting the tapes in order to have something else to humiliate the younger man over. The older detective began to try and collect the tapes of the scene.

Bucky sighed and nodded, knowing Brock loved complete control over the scene. He never had a partner long, and Bucky had figured out months ago why. But he needed this post so didn’t ask for a transfer like Brock’s former partners. This precinct was closest to home and TJ.

After a few minutes of fiddling with the system, Brock grunted and shook his head, “camera on the inside ain’t workin’. System is old as hell.”

“Anything on the outside?” Bucky figured a guy in a mask would be hard to identify without the visual clues the inside tape could have provided. This fell under one of Brock’s favorite pet peeves; the older detective had said, time and again, that it should be law that these places updated their systems every couple of years.

Grumbling under his breath, Brock tried to get the tapes from the outside so they would at least have the getaway car but after another few minutes the older man cursed, “damn. Nothin’. Fucking cheap ass owners tryin’ to get by on a system from the fucking seventies.”

Looking around, Bucky walked back over to the coroner and asked, “are you taking the body to county or city?”

“County,” the coroner stated, beginning to bag up the body.

“Always the fuckin’ _county_. So much paperwork just to look at the body,” Brock grumbled unhappily.

“Well, they have jurisdiction now. Can’t change that. Maybe the next robbery will be conveniently in our solo turf.” Of course, since counties overlapped and cities were inside counties, that would never happen. Bucky regretted the snippy remark as soon as it left his lips.

Brock’s eyes flashed with a dangerous fury, “c’mon, _sport_ , we gotta go file paperwork.”

Without another remark, Bucky followed his superior officer, and partner, to the car. He grabbed the handle to open the door, still wearing the unused gloves.

Just as Bucky opened the door to the car, his phone rang, the ringtone he used for when TJ called coming from the device.

Bucky sank onto the seat and pulled out his phone. He checked to see what his brother wanted and sighed, answering the live call. “Teej? It’s Buck.”

“Buck. Late, you’re late,” TJ said, sounding worried but not as worked up as some days. It seemed to be an _okay_ day for the young man.

“Didn’t Lucky tell you? I got called to do another shift. Catching the bad guys,” Bucky said, watching Brock through the windshield.

Brock walked around and slipped behind the wheel. The older man rolled his eyes, looking annoyed when he realized who Bucky was talking to but didn’t say anything out loud. He started the car and pulled away from scene, heading in the direction of the precinct.

“That was almost _four_ hours ago,” TJ pointed out, “I counted.”

“And, Teej, do you remember how long a shift lasts?” Bucky prompted, watching Brock warily.

“Longer than four hours?” TJ guessed, sounding disappointed.

“Yes, Teej. Two times four.” Bucky hoped Brock would let him finishing soothing TJ before he decided he was sick of waiting to berate his junior partner.

“Eight. Eight hours,” TJ sighed softly, “then you come home? After eight hours?”

Bucky’s voice sounded gentle. “If the boss tells me I can, Teej, I’ll come home in four more hours, that’s right. You get to nap. Let Lucky read to you.”

“I like it when you read to me. Tomorrow’s Wednesday. You don’t go to work on Wednesday,” TJ reminded his brother, sounding a bit better than he had when Bucky first picked up.

“Yes, we can read and play games all day tomorrow, baby. You nap now so you wake up when I get home,” Bucky coaxed.

“Okay. You promise to wake me up when you get home?” TJ asked.

“I promise, sweetheart. Nap, little wolf-pup,” Bucky smiled softly and it showed in his voice.

“Okay. Be safe. Love you,” TJ said and then abruptly hung up like he normally did, not letting Bucky say anything else.

Bucky sighed and hung up his phone, slipping it into his pocket.

Brock huffed, rolling his eyes again, as if talking to himself, but loud enough so Bucky could hear, “like I said. A _home_ for the kid . . .”

“And like _I_ said, Rumlow,” Bucky stressed, shooting Brock a glare, “TJ already _has_ a home.”

“And how are you gonna ever advance in this job if you constantly need to tend him? You already ask for a whole day off when you gotta drag the poor bastard to a doctor’s appointment. If he’s at a home, he’d have doctors always available to him,” Brock stated, as if he had the right to input his opinion on how Bucky should care for his little brother.

Shaking his head, Bucky’s tone firmed as he said, “TJ’s living with me. No chance of it ever changing, so you can stop trying to get me to move him out. Sorry if that means you can’t come over, but that’s the way it’s gonna be. He’s my brother. I’m all he has after the accident.”

Snorting, like Bucky had told a joke, Brock suddenly flashed a grin at his partner, “oh, I bet I can be _real_ quiet if you ever want me over, sport. Thing is shutting _you_ up. Maybe we can stuff a sock in your mouth? That way we don’t wake the kid.”

“I don’t want to bring anyone home, Brock, and disrupt TJ’s schedules. He’s very nervous.” Bucky sighed and ran his hand over his hair, wincing as his fingers caught at the rubber band and pulled his hair painfully. “And, about us, as a couple . . .” he was ready to just break it all off.

Grin slipping away, Brock frowned and narrowed his eyes in Bucky’s direction before looking back at the road. “Don’t like that tone, sport. Remember I can request you be transferred. Think there’s an opening across the city? How’d you like an hour, if not more, commute?”

As always, the threat shut Bucky up, ending his half-formed thought of breaking free from the selfish man. Nodding, Bucky said, “so, we’re still good then? Still a thing?” His tone suggested that he worried Brock was growing tired of _him_ , not the other way around.

“Yeah, we’re all good, sport. Not tired of that sweet ass yet. One day, though, I wanna meet the kid. He calls you enough on the job that I feel like I know him,” Brock commented, pulling into the parking lot of the precinct.

Bucky looked at Brock and shook his head, “I thought you wanted to keep us secret in case TJ blabs? Senior and junior partners together aren’t exactly kosher at the precinct under Captain Fury’s thumb.”

“And who’s the kid gonna blab to? His stuffed wolf? Think the wolf can keep a secret,” Brock leered, parking the vehicle.

Puzzled by Brock interest in the seventeen year old he’d never met and always complained about, Bucky asked, “why would you want to meet TJ? He’s pretty much a mental invalid since the accident.”

Shrugging one shoulder, unbuckling his seatbelt, Brock said, “why not? Could be fun to talk to. Maybe he’d learn somethin’ from me. Expand his horizons and all that.”

Shaking his head, Bucky said, “Brock, he doesn’t know anything about life beyond school and home. He’d hardly be amused by sex jokes and poker.”

“Saying the kid can’t learn anythin’ new? Aren’t you his guardian or somethin’? You should want him to learn new things,” Brock commented, turning his attention to his partner in the seat next to him.

“Yeah, and he is, but,” Bucky licked his lips, “I don’t think he’d get your sense of humor, Brock. You tend to like drinking and crude jokes and making sexist comments about everything and everyone. TJ wouldn’t understand that kind of humor. Even before the accident, he’d never dated yet, just went to school and came home and practiced piano. He’s too naive for your taste.” Bucky reached to open the car door.

“Whatever you say, sport. Jus’ offering to teach the kid somethin’ new. And,” Brock grinned suddenly, waggling his eyebrows, “your bed would be _so_ much more comfortable than fucking you against a wall like some back-alley whore.”

Wincing, Bucky said, “I thought you preferred it like that. You demand it often enough, Brock.” He didn’t open the door, not wanting to chance anyone hearing their conversation.

“Can’t fuck you in the filing room, now can I? And, I don’t want you dirtying up _my_ bed,” Brock pointed out, as if stating common sense.

Sarcastically, Bucky muttered, “so, I guess marriage is a no.” He reached for the door again.

“Hmm . . . marriage, huh?” Brock snorted again, reaching for the door but not opening it, “yeah, like the sound of you being _Mr. Rumlow_. I could move out of _my_ apartment and into your house. Like that.”

“We can’t,” Bucky shook his head, regretting putting the idea out there, even as a bad joke. “One of us would have to transfer. We’ve got paperwork to do.” He opened the door and began to leave the car.

Laughing, Brock got out of the car and quickly caught up to Bucky. “Sure, we have _tons_ of paperwork. Might take even longer than four hours. Might be workin’ on your day off, sport.”

“Fury would never approve a triple shift, Brock. I’m already halfway through a double.” Bucky eyed Brock from the corner of his eye. He wondered what Brock’s mood was. It was hard to tell, since mere moments before the other man was angry and looking to punish Bucky, and now he seemed to be playful and teasing. Often that meant Brock was ready for more sex, and Bucky didn’t have the time. He needed to finish his paperwork to get home to TJ.

“Always such a _downer_ , Buck,” Brock purposely used the nickname TJ used for his brother, “always seem like you wanna spend as little of time as possible with me. And, I _know_ that’s not the case, right?”

Sighing, Bucky hissed, “no, Brock, that’s not the case. But I _am_ sore and tired and have a lot of paperwork to do.” Not wanting anyone else to overhear, Bucky turned towards the backdoor of the precinct instead of the public front entrance.

Brock grinned in satisfaction, following Bucky; he waited until they were away from unwanted ears before saying, “you know. I should take ya on a _real_ date one of these days, huh?”

“You said we can’t date because people could see us, Rumlow,” Bucky sounded tired, but he did stop outside the back alley to listen to his partner’s words.

Rolling his eyes, Brock said, “not sayin’ kissin’ or anything. Get a cup of coffee or somethin’. Some breakfast. Hey, we can even get some chow after we finish our paperwork.”

Pausing, Bucky sighed, “food would be good, if we’ve got shift time left. But we don’t have much time to file the murder-robbery and the shift even before that.”

“Well, let’s get a move on, then,” Brock said, opening the back door to the precinct, as if Bucky had been the one to keep them from completing their required paperwork.

Once inside the building, Bucky headed for the filing room and the small desk he had down there, all by himself. He hadn’t yet rated something bigger or higher up than the basement, despite his promotion to detective. Secretly, he suspected Brock of arranging that, but he never challenged the other man, just trudging down the steps into the dank, dark cellar. He didn’t even look back at Brock, or take time for a shower, too intent on getting the damned papers done as soon as he could.

**************

A half hour to spare before the shift ended, groaning, Bucky threw himself onto the half-buried army surplus cot in the station's back fling room. Freshly showered, dark brown hair still clingy wet, only a fresh pair of jeans tugged on over his clean boxers, he buried his face in the slightly musty-smelling pillow, groaning in utter exhaustion, glad his phone alarm was set to loud. With yesterday's caseload and the robbery-homicide last night, Bucky had barely managed to stay awake for the rest of his filing. He needed a good meal, he hadn't eaten in almost sixteen hours - - and a long sleep, he hadn't seen the inside of his eyelids in almost thirty-six hours. He seriously considered sleeping through the next three days then binge eating at the crappy cafe down the street, if he didn't expire first, though he knew he couldn’t afford the time unconscious with his home and work responsibilities. And he still fucking hurt from earlier; Brock had torn him some in that rough handling.

“Hey, Barnes!” Brock called, coming into the room, “let’s get some chow.”

Groaning, sounding almost sexual in his exhaustion and annoyance, Bucky lifted his head, back arching. He looked at Brock blearily. “Now?”

“Well, I ain’t talking about three days from now,” Brock quipped.

With a snort for Brock’s inadvertent reading of his own thoughts from a moment earlier, Bucky shook his head. “So, food.” He flipped over on the bed and grabbed for his shirt. “At the cafe down the street?”

Eyes trailing down Bucky’s form, stretched out on the cot, Brock suddenly leered, “actually,” he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, the audible click of the lock echoing through the room. “I have a better idea on how we can spend the last thirty minutes.”

Bucky’s eyes widened at the locking sound. “Brock . . .” he drew out the word in a warning, keeping his voice low. “We’re _in_ the precinct filing room!”

“The door locks, Barnes, quit your whining,” Brock grumbled, already working on his trousers as he walked over to the cot. “You just gotta keep it down. You’re a bit of a screamer.”

Groaning softly, Bucky gave in, knowing he couldn’t protest. He never could; Brock had too much over him. He unfastened his fresh trousers and slid them off, tossing them to the chair where his shirt was, at his tiny desk. Regretfully, Bucky slid down his boxers. “You want me against the wall again?” he asked, trying not to sound disappointed.

“Nah, let’s mix it up a bit,” Brock grinned, pushing his trousers down enough and then pulling his cock out.

Bucky nodded and eyed the cot, doubting it would hold their weight without loud squeaking. He climbed to the floor and got onto his hands and knees, something Brock had never had him do before; it had _always_ been standing. Bucky arched his back like he’d seen in a porn video Brock insisted he watch privately when they’d first gotten together. He spread his legs enough to expose his ass, his balls and flaccid cock just visible between his thighs. “Like this, Rumlow?” he asked on a low note, knowing Brock liked the power and authority his last name seemed to give him during sex.

Groaning softly, Brock nodded and lined up behind Bucky, his cockhead pushing against his partner’s entrance, “yeah, just like that. You look so much like the slut I know you are.”

“Shit!” Bucky tried to pull away, “no bareback!”

One hand grabbing the back of Bucky’s neck, keeping the other man in place, Brock growled, “I’m clean, slut. And, unless you’ve been whoring yourself out to other guys, you are too.”

“No . . .” Bucky protested, shaking his head and trying to pull away. “You agreed no bareback!”

“Stop whining,” Brock snapped, pushing in a bit with a groan.

Still sore from before, tight from the last eight hours without, and with no lube, Bucky hissed and scrabbled at the cement floor. “Damn . . . lube! Hurts,” he moaned, trying to pull away.

“You know what,” Brock shoved Bucky away, growling in irritation, “you’re fucking whining too much. Ain’t worth the effort.” He stood up, tucking himself away. “Nothing but a whore. Next time, fucking lube yourself up if you want it.” Brock paused and then smiled, “you know what? Maybe I’ll have a little chat with Fury about how you and I don’t _click_.”

Pale eyes widening, Bucky shook his head, “Just startled me is all, Rumlow.” He bent over, ass presented open and high, “c’mon . . . please fuck me . . . hard . . . you know I only want you, any way you give it.”

“That’s more like it,” Brock purred, pulling himself out and getting into position.

**************

Stiff and very sore, wincing as the napkins and menstrual pad he scrounged from the female's locker room chafed across his torn ass, Bucky thankfully stopped at his own front door. He was never so glad he only lived one subway stop from the precinct; Brock had never been that rough before. Bucky knew the other man had been punishing him for protesting. With a soft whimper, Bucky unlocked the door just as his phone alarmed. He let the door swing open as he fumbled the phone out to shut it off.

After he turned off the alarm, he could smell something coming from the kitchen. It didn’t smell like the usual nutritious meal that Loki Odinson, TJ’s home night-nurse, made. It was something sweet, buttery.

Sniffing, Bucky fought the churning of his stomach after the nauseating encounter with Brock _in_ the precinct. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen so low as to beg Rumlow to practically rape him, dry, _in_ the filing room. Bucky put a hand over his stomach and fought the wave of nausea at the sweet smell inside. Finally, closing his nose mentally, like he did at foul crime scenes, Bucky limped into the hallway and shut the door. “I’m home,” he rasped, throat still very sore from Rumlow fucking him in the mouth and throat, too.

“Buck!” TJ grinned at his older brother, just finishing setting a plate of toaster waffles with an ungodly amount of syrup and butter on them next to a glass of orange juice. “Four hours.” He glanced at the clock in the kitchen, the faint scarring on his right temple visible for a moment before he turned his pale eyes back to Bucky. “I made breakfast for you!”

“Thanks,” Bucky rasped, smiling gently at his seventeen year old brother, the sole survivor of a family car crash during Bucky’s time away at the Police Academy. “Have you eaten, Baby?” Bucky glanced around before sinking, thankfully, onto one of only two chairs with pillows.

TJ nodded, grinning brightly, “uh huh. Lucky made me breakfast. I napped for three hours, Buck. I only had to wait for one for you.”

Pulling over the plate and glass, Bucky looked up at TJ. “You didn’t wake up with a bad dream, did you, sweetheart?” he asked, concern lacing his words. Bucky mentally set himself and began eating the disgusting meal his brother had prepared. TJ had been so severely hurt in the accident, it was a miracle he’d come this far to even be able to put a couple of waffles in a toaster then drown in with sweet things on a plate. Bucky had been warned TJ would never mentally be able to care for himself again.

“No. I wanted to be up for when you got home. Right at four hours. I watched the clock.” TJ sat in the chair across from his brother, his long fingers tapping against his thighs. “It’s Wednesday, Buck. You don’t catch bad guys on Wednesday.”

“That’s right. I don’t work on Wednesday unless the Joker gets all the bad guys to break out of jail at the same time.” Bucky nodded and downed the food quickly so he wouldn’t taste it as much. He hated butter and syrup. “What did you eat, Teej?”

“Lucky made oatmeal with strawberries and orange juice,” TJ reported, watching Bucky eat the meal he’d prepared with a prideful look in his eyes, “I made the waffles all by myself. My hands didn’t shake.”

“That’s great, TJ!” Bucky choked out, throat feeling worse than ever. He said, “and Lucky told you where to find the syrup, huh?” He used TJ’s nickname for the nurse.

“Uh huh,” TJ beamed, nodding, “you like it? I put a bunch of syrup and butter so it would taste good.”

Nodding, Bucky said, “it’s not bad, but you know what makes it really good? Instead of this stuff, you can use berries and whipped cream. That’s the best!” Bucky wanted to encourage TJ, but dreaded getting another disgusting meal if he didn’t give a good alternative.

“Oh . . .” TJ nodded and reached for Bucky’s plate with a slightly shaking hand.

“Hey!” Bucky yelped and pulled the plate close, wrapping an arm in front as if to protect it from poaching little brothers. He playfully growled, despite the pain, “that’s _my_ food! You get your own. I’m finishing this off!”

“I . . . I make it better? Like you said,” TJ offered.

Laughing, Bucky shook his head. “Nah, I’m gonna eat this one right now. Go tell Lucky to write down _Belgian_ waffles. Got that? Say it, Teej. _Bel - - ge - - an_ waffles. That way he gives you the right ingredients next time.”

“Bel - - ge - - an,” TJ repeated back slowly, nodding. He slipped from his seat and hurried away to find his nurse.

Not daring the throw out the food for fear TJ would see it in the garbage, Bucky swallowed the rest, holding back a gag of disgust. He drowned the taste in the orange juice then got up, stiffly, to go get more juice.

Minutes later, TJ returned, smiling once more, “Buck! You said we play games today. It’s Wednesday.”

Wishing he could get sleep on his day off like other cops, Bucky smiled and nodded, secretly looking forward to TJ’s nap time. Since TJ often had trouble sleeping at night, he had small naps during the day as well. “Yes it is. What game? Board game? Video game?”

“I want _you_ to pick,” TJ grinned, stepping up close to his brother. The younger man could smell the bitter, gross scent coming off Bucky but he simply thought that’s how _all_ cops smelled after getting home from catching the bad guys. 

“I don’t know. I’m gonna want to pick a _hard_ game, Teej. You feeling up to a hard one?” Bucky led his brother towards the large living room, thankful there was a bathroom right off the space. He often kept a spare set of sweats and underwear in there in case TJ got sick on him during a bad spell.

“I can do a hard one!” TJ glanced over at Loki who sat on a rocker reading a book, “Bucky’s back, Lucky! It’s Wednesday!”

Glancing up, the raven-haired nurse with the ice-green eyes smiled at his charge. He set his book aside and stood. “Well, why don’t we let him get out of uniform while we setup the game and I give you medicine. Which game today?” He walked over to the low table ringed with comfortable chairs. Loki never commented on the bitter scent of stale sex Bucky often came home smelling of; his employer kept any lovers from the house and so Loki kept his opinion to himself.

“Bucky said a hard one,” TJ commented, walking over to the table. “You go get clean, Buck. Lucky’s gotta give me medicine.”

Bucky looked proud suddenly. “You said it! You said _medicine_ TJ, without stumbling this time. That’s good!”

Grinning, TJ looked at Loki, “I did! I said it, huh? All by myself.”

Nodding, Loki said, “yes, you did, pet. Did Bucky say which game he wants to play?”

“ _Pokemon Sorry_ ,” Bucky said and slipped into the bathroom, leaving Loki the job of setting up the game TJ was only barely beginning to re-learn. The numbers and spelling out _sorry_ was hard enough that Bucky often just told him what to do if TJ told him what the big number or letters on the cards said. He never asked TJ to read the small print.

TJ waited and watched as Loki set up the game. His fingers started to twitch in his lap, showing that it was, in fact, almost time for his morning dose of medicine.

Loki looked up as he set the shuffled cards in the center of the board, but he left the large colorful _Pokemon_ pawns off the board. “Medicine then we can put the pawns in their start circle. Okay, pet?”

“Mm’kay,” TJ nodded, looking over at Loki. Lowering his voice, as if trying to keep a secret, but loud enough that anyone in the room could hear, the younger man said, “does catching bad guys make every . . . everyone smell funny?”

Loki looked at TJ and shook his head. He’d waited for this subject to finally come up. Just as conversationally as TJ, Loki said, “not at all. Some smell worse, like rotten meat or even poop. Some smell great, but I don’t know how they do it. It depends on where the bad guys are hiding and what they did.”

“But . . . Bucky al - - always smells the same,” TJ scrunched his nose.

Loki nodded and gave TJ his injection then handed over his pills and a glass of apple juice. “That’s because before he comes home, Bucky visits his boyfriend. That smell is coming from his boyfriend not the bad guys.”

TJ’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock. He quickly took his medicine and sipped it down with the apple juice. “Bucky has a _boyfriend_? Bucky nev . . . never told me he had a _boyfriend_.”

Chuckling, Loki said, “did you ever ask if he had a boyfriend, pet?” He took the empty glass to the kitchen.

“Well, Bucky’s boyfriend needs to take a sh - - shower. I should give Bucky’s boyfriend some of my soap . . . my soap smells good. That way Bucky won’t . . . won’t smell bad anymore,” TJ said, the trembling in his hands beginning to ease as the medicine took effect.

Laughing outright, Loki shook his head and turned back into the living room. “Teej, pet, it’s not that his boyfriend needs a shower or soap. It’s that Bucky’s rushing home to you so doesn’t clean up at his boyfriend’s place. That smell is sex.” Sinking into the chair across from TJ, Loki handed four pawns to TJ to match with their colored starting space. “You know when you _milk_ yourself to get rid of the stiffness? If I didn’t make you wash right away, that would smell like Bucky does when he gets home.”

“So . . . so _Bucky_ needs to shower,” TJ said, putting the pieces Loki handed him in the correct spot.

“Exactly,” Loki laughed. “But since he doesn’t want to be late after being with his boyfriend, he comes home dirty instead.” Loki had been the one to quietly help TJ through re-learning about his body and masterbation. He hadn’t bothered to tell Bucky, though he put it in his nightly reports, because TJ had been reacting with a normal sex drive. It was _one_ thing that wasn’t damaged permanently by the accident at least.

“I’ll tell Bucky that he can shower before coming home so he doesn’t stink,” TJ said, matching the _Pokemon_ character on each start with the pawns he held.

“What?” Bucky froze in the doorway of the bathroom, confused and flushing slightly, dressed in his sweatpants and a t-shirt, hair wet.

“Your boyfriend,” TJ stated, looking up at Bucky, “you . . . you can shower after your boyfriend loves you. That - - that way you don’t smell.”

Brightly flushing by then, Bucky glared towards Loki. “What are you teaching my baby brother?”

With a snort, Loki met Bucky’s eyes. “I am teaching him how sex is normal for grown ups. Do you want him to be embarrassed about his body functions? Because if he doesn’t learn, someone’s going to have to do it for him. You want him to wipe himself and feed himself, so I taught him how to pleasure himself. It’s in the reports whenever he does it so you should read those.”

“And Lucky makes me clean up afterwards, that way I don’t stink,” TJ informed with a smile.

A low growl escaped Bucky, but not his playful one of earlier, “you _have sex_ with my brother?”

“No!” Loki stood, stiff and proud, eyes narrowed. “I showed him how to safely masterbate and he does it for himself. I watch him while he explores _himself_ so he doesn’t injure himself, but I never touch him or do anything sexual to myself while _he_ tends his _needs_.”

TJ looked between Bucky and Loki, pale eyes wide and smile completely gone at that point. He looked confused and upset. “I don’t . . . do I wrong?” The jumbled speech showed that the younger man was anxious, worried that he had upset his older brother.

Loki turned and smiled at TJ as Bucky tried to digest the new revelations. “Pet, it’s okay. Bucky was worried I would hurt you or something. Remember how I said you have to use the oil so you don’t hurt yourself? Bucky worried I wouldn’t remember all the rules for sex.”

Taking his cue from Loki, though by no means happy with the realization his brother’s nurse had been giving him some kind of sex education, too, Bucky said, “I just don’t want you hurt, baby. When two men have sex together, sometimes it hurts if they're not careful.”

“Lucky . . . he - - he not touch me,” TJ whimpered, fearing he was in trouble or did something wrong by Bucky’s reaction. “Lucky never touches me when . . .”

With a sigh, Loki reached over and stroked TJ’s curls in an agreed upon safe touch Bucky allowed. “Relax, Teej pet. I’ll show Bucky what I taught you so he knows you’re okay. Will that make you happy, Bucky? TJ?”

Bucky nodded, reluctantly, “yes. I just want to know . . . you didn’t forget any rules,” he used Loki’s explanation.

Loki sank onto a third chair, letting Bucky and TJ have their normal cushioned chairs. “I have some time to play a game if you wish?”

Knowing it would ease TJ’s mind if they acted normal, Bucky allowed Loki to stay beyond shift, which he sometimes did if TJ wanted him to. “Sure. Teej? Which color do you want to play?” He made a mental note to get Loki’s information about the sex lessons _before_ he left that morning.

Pale eyes flickering to look at the other men, TJ slowly nodded, letting out a breath, “I want blue.”

“I’ll take red,” Bucky said, choosing his typical color. Loki smiled and silently claimed the green.

**************

After TJ had finished two games, winning one, Loki and Bucky talked for ten minutes privately, leaving TJ to color in a coloring book of baby animals. Finally, Loki left and Bucky walked back in, sinking into his chair beside TJ and looking over his work. “Oh, you’re getting so much better at that. Still saving the wolf picture until you aren’t shaky anymore?”

TJ nodded, his eyes focusing on his work as he tried to stay in the lines of the kittens he was coloring. With the medicine his hands didn’t shake as bad, but he still needed to work on control. “Don’t wanna mess up the wolf picture,” TJ answered, using red crayon to color one of the kittens’ collars.

“Would you like another coloring book when you run out so you can save the wolf picture?” Bucky offered gently. He had to admit, as uncomfortable as he was with the idea of TJ’s nurse showing him sexual stuff, what Loki explained and showed him of the videos and notes made perfect sense for TJ’s recovery. Bucky just had trouble with the idea of _anyone_ showing TJ about sex. He supposed he couldn’t help but think of TJ as the fourteen year old from before the car accident, despite the steps back in mental ability the near eighteen year old had taken. And Loki had been right; letting TJ discover it on his own opened the boy to a world of mistakes he didn’t emotionally need. TJ was a month away from being a legal adult, at least chronologically.

“Yeah,” TJ nodded, grabbing his tablet that was on the table and tapping on it a few times. “I like this one,” he showed a coloring book which had characters from a TV show he liked. Any looking that TJ did was all online. The seventeen year old didn’t go to the market with Bucky because he suffered from severe anxiety about leaving the home.

Nodding, Bucky studied the picture with a yawn he covered with his hand. He was beat but determined to stay awake while TJ was awake. He’d cat nap during TJ’s naps. “And what about this one?” He gestured to a picture of a book with all landscapes. “Do you like that one?”

TJ smiled and nodded, “I like that one, too.” The teen yawned and rubbed at his eyes. “You’re staying here all day, right, Buck?”

“I hope so,” Bucky smiled. “I live here, silly.”

“It’s Wednesday, so, you don’t catch bad guys,” TJ murmured, looking at Bucky, “maybe . . .” the younger man shifted, looking a little uncomfortable.

“Maybe what, baby?” Bucky prompted. “What do you want?”

“You invite your boyfriend over _next_ Wednesday,” TJ chewed on his bottom lip.

The smile instantly fell from Bucky’s face and his voice dropped to a horrified whisper, “no! Never!” He shook his head and put his hand over TJ’s hand. “I _can’t_ bring him here!”

Blinking, looking hurt, TJ dropped his head, “I - - I . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t . . .”

“TJ, please, try to understand what I’m going to tell you . . .” Bucky put both hands over TJ’s and met his eyes. “My boyfriend, Brock, doesn’t like when I spend time with you. He wants me to spend time only with him. If I bring him home, he won’t let me play games with _you_. So, I won’t bring him here. I want to have time with _you_ whenever I can, and that’s means Wednesdays and Fridays, all day.” He hoped TJ would feel Bucky was favoring TJ in this deal, not Brock; suddenly, Bucky was terrified of Brock meeting TJ, seeing the desirable young man Bucky had only just realized his brother was becoming.

“But . . .” TJ frowned softly, looking like he was trying to puzzle through everything, “why . . . why won’t Brock like me? I - - I . . . I’ll try . . . try not to be stupid.”

Taking a deep, slow breath, suddenly wishing Loki was there to explain; the nurse always seemed to be able to make TJ understand without making him feel stupid, Bucky said, “I know he’ll like you, Teej. But I’m afraid he’ll get jealous of sharing me with you.”

“He’ll get jealous?” TJ blinked, looking down at his coloring page, some of the color coming out of the lines of the picture. “That doesn’t sound like a good boyfriend . . .”

“It’s hard to explain,” Bucky sighed, too tired to choose his words carefully. “Brock’s my boss at work. And he likes being my boyfriend. I don’t like being his boyfriend, but he told me that if I stop he’ll make me switch to a different building to work. The building would be so far away, I would have to be gone ten or twelve hours every day . . . and a double would be all night, too.” He shook his head. “I’m trying to figure this out, but I don’t want him near you. He’s too . . . controlling.”

“Why don’t you . . . you tell Brock’s boss? Then Brock moves and you stay?” TJ asked, tilting his head slightly.

Bucky met his little brother’s eyes, “because his boss has known him longer, and I’m worried he’ll make _me_ move, instead of Brock.” Bucky patted TJ’s hands. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be worrying you with all this. Want some lunch?”

“I want . . . I want to help,” TJ said, frowning softly, trying to think of a way he could help his older brother. “I . . . I tell Brock’s boss. I’ll tell Brock’s boss that . . . that he isn’t a good boyfriend.”

“No!” Bucky took TJ’s hands again and met his eyes, sounding desperate. “If he knows we’re boyfriends, we’ll get fired, TJ. It’s against the rules.”

Looking even more confused, TJ shook his head, “then, why are you boyfriends?”

“You probably won’t understand,” Bucky said softly, hanging his head and letting his shoulders droop.

One of TJ’s hands lifted to rub at his right temple, over the scars, and he let out a soft breath. “Okay.”

As if he hadn’t heard TJ’s acquiescence, Bucky began to tell his sordid story. “When I first started there, Brock was my teacher. And one day after work, he asked me to go drink beer with him. I got drunk and when I woke up, I found out we’d had sex together. Brock said he really, really liked me and he wanted to be my boyfriend but we couldn’t tell. It was a secret. I liked him, too, so I agreed. But now, I don’t like him that way anymore. And if I try to tell him no, he says he’ll make me switch to the other side of the city.” Bucky lifted his face, tears in his eyes, though he fought them. “I’m sorry. Must be so confusing.”

TJ processed all the information, taking a few moments to try and understand everything Bucky told him. “Then . . . we . . . we move? There . . . there are houses over there, right? We move over there.”

Finally letting go with a sob, Bucky hugged TJ to him. “I love you so much, baby brother!”

“I love you, too,” TJ answered in return, hugging his brother in return, “why are you crying? Did . . . did I make you sad?”

“Because,” Bucky cupped TJ’s face and smiled through his tears, “you are so much _smarter_ than me. If Loki thinks you moving won’t scare you too much, I’ll look for another house, on the other side of the city. Brooklyn, maybe? We used to live there back when we were little, before Grandma went to Heaven. Do you remember? She had that little garden in back even though you could walk three steps and get to the end of it?”

“There were . . . pretty . . . pretty pink and purple flowers?” TJ asked, looking hopeful that he’d remembered something.

Nodding, Bucky hugged TJ again. “We’re gonna write that in your memory book! You remembered Grandma’s flowers!”

Smiling, TJ exclaimed, “I remembered! Can we move to a house that has pretty flowers?”

Standing, tugging TJ carefully to his feet, Bucky said, firmly, “we can plant flowers if there aren’t any. Let’s go make lunch. I’ll show you how to do peanut butter and jelly. You used to do that all the time.” He knew it would be a lot of hardship trying to find new place and then transferring, but Bucky suddenly felt hopeful. Now all he had to do was get through however long it took to make things final.


	2. From All Sides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Severe Anxiety Attack, Domestic Abuse, Threats, Post Traumatic Flashbacks, Referenced Non-Consensual, Stalking**

Feeling better already, despite the grumpy Thursday with Brock, who seemed to sense Bucky kept secrets and accused him of whoring around, Bucky walked into TJ’s room. It was Friday and time for his monthly doctor’s evaluation, though TJ never liked leaving the house, even to meet with Doctor Cho, whom he _did_ like. Stopping in the doorway, having hoped TJ would at least be dressed and just moping on his bed, Bucky looked around. “Teej, baby? Where are you? Bathroom?”

From the corner of the room, in between his desk and a bookshelf containing some books and various knick knacks, TJ whimpered, “I . . . no go.”

Turning, Bucky sighed to see TJ had wedged himself in his _safe_ spot. It was going to be a _bad_ day then. Stepping over, gentling his tone, Bucky said, "I thought you _like_ Helen?"

“Don’t wanna leave,” TJ sniffled, eyes blurring with tears as he looked at Bucky. His body trembled and his fingers tapped in an agitated manner against his shins.

“But Helen’s going to be so sad if you don’t go see her, Teej. You don’t want Helen sad, do you?” Bucky stepped closer, his hands visible and loose at his sides. He wished Loki hadn’t gone home on time for once; he could use the nurse’s help with TJ.

Shaking his head, his hands moving to grip at his hair, TJ wailed, “don’t wanna go in the car! Don’t wanna go!”

“We can’t go by subway, Teej. Her office is in Brooklyn!” That was another good reason for the move: the proximity to Dr. Cho. Bucky wished he’d thought of moving ages ago. “We’ll hold hands and sing while we go in the uber, okay?”

“Gonna crash . . . gonna go to heaven like Momma, Dad, and Becca!” TJ continued to sob, fingers gripping his hair tightly, pulling painfully. “Crash. Crash and roll. Over and over.”

“No, oh no, baby,” Bucky cooed. “We’re not gonna crash, baby. We’ll get Scott. You like Scott, right?” He finally stepped up next to his brother and stroked TJ’s arm, not trying to force him out of where he’d wedged himself.

“Y - - you promise?” TJ whimpered, looking at Bucky. He still gripped at his hair, his hands visibly trembling.

Nodding, Bucky cooed, “I promise. I’ll call Scott to come special, Teej baby.” He stroked again, leaning close enough to kiss TJ’s shoulder, not getting too close to TJ’s face, especially where the scars marred him from being trapped and injured in the car.

“Can . . . can I bring Luna?” TJ asked so softly, a few tears still running down his cheeks, though it appeared that the young man started to calm down.

“I think Luna would cry if you didn’t,” Bucky agreed softly. He reached into the closest drawer and pulled out TJ’s soft pajamas with the wolf pups printed on the set. “Here, wear your safe suit, okay, baby?” The pajamas only got worn when TJ was at his most frightened, so the _magic safety_ didn’t wear away.

Sniffling softly, TJ pried away one of his hands to grab the pajamas, his hand trembling. Carefully, the thin teen crawled out of his corner and started to remove the pajamas he wore to bed the night before.

“Baby, wanna wash up first?” Bucky gently asked. “You peed in fear like a wolf does when afraid. Remember? It’s okay but we should wash up now, right?” He stroked TJ’s curls. He still couldn’t believe how Loki had stumbled upon the wolf as a way to guide TJ through his confusion and re-education.

Whimpering, a flush gracing his pale skin, TJ wrapped his arms around himself and nodded. Even though he struggled to comprehend some things, the seventeen year old knew he should be embarrassed over wetting himself.

Bucky deliberately hugged TJ to him, showing he wasn’t disgusted or disappointed by his brother’s accident. “My beautiful wolf-pup, TJ.” He carefully guided TJ to the bathroom. “Once we’ve cleaned and changed, I’ll let you call Scott. Would you like that? You can call him for us?” He’d often let TJ speak to Scott Lang, their preferred driver, but so far Bucky hadn’t let TJ dial the phone call himself.

“You - - I can push the buttons?” TJ sniffled, wiping at his eyes as they stepped into the bathroom.

Nodding, Bucky said, “yes. I’ll tell you which ones to push and you can push them, okay?” He smiled and stroked TJ’s hair carefully from his face on the left side, deliberately avoiding the healed right side out of sensitivity to TJ’s anxiety attack. Fortunately, they’d long been in the habit of trying to get TJ out of the house at least an hour before most people would leave, so they had time to calm him on a bad day. Now, that time could be used to let TJ shower with his favorite strawberry scented bath wash and shampoo. Bucky handed the special bottles to his brother with a smile. “Use these, baby.”

TJ took the bottles and held them to his chest. He still wore his soiled pajama bottoms and underwear.

“Want help, sweetie? You know, I like to help you when you want it?” Bucky smiled but made no move to strip his brother without permission. He had to remember, TJ wasn’t a five year old and needed to be given the choices of an adult.

Whimpering softly, a few more tears running down his cheeks, TJ nodded, still cradling the shampoo and body wash to his chest. “I - - I . . . ruined . . . ruined them!”

Bucky shook his head and helped TJ walk into the shower. He began running water and testing temperature. “You didn’t ruin them, sweetie. Remember? Clothing can be washed. Lucky showed me how so they don’t even smell like pee. No one will know.” He smiled up at TJ. “Wanna step under the water in those so you can start rinsing them, too?”

“Y - - yeah,” TJ sniffled, still holding the bottles as he stepped under the water. His wild curls which, when dried piled on top of his head, spilled down into his eyes.

Bucky stripped and stepped into the water, too, then began helping his brother out of the pajama bottoms and underwear. He smiled and said, “okay, time to use the body wash. Which one is that, TJ? You remember?” He grabbed TJ’s dark blue buff puff.

“This . . . this one?” TJ asked, displaying the body wash after looking down at both bottles. “This one . . . right, Buck?”

Bucky checked, as if he didn’t know immediately, and nodded, “Right! Clever, TJ.” He handed over the buff puff. “Remember? A fingertip amount. Let me have the shampoo and I’ll wash your hair while you scrub up, okay?” He knew as well as TJ that peeing his pants in the corner didn’t need a hair washing with special shampoo, but Bucky also knew the treat would help relax his brother even more, being surrounded by his favorite scent.

Nodding, TJ handing over the shampoo and then took the buff puff from his brother. He squirted the small amount and then set the bottle on the shelf in the shower. He started to scrub himself, washing away where the urine had gotten on his skin. “I . . . I’m sorry . . . Bucky . . .”

“Sorry for what, sweetie?” Bucky asked as he began massaging shampoo into his brother’s wet curls.

“I wet myself . . . like a _baby_ ,” TJ whimpered, sounding on the verge of tears again.

Bucky shook his head, “no you didn’t. Babies wet themselves because they don’t know how to use the toilet. You wet yourself because you were afraid. That’s like a wolf . . . an adult wolf. Not a baby.” He smiled gently at TJ. “And we don’t get upset at each other for being afraid, right?”

“You’re . . . you’re not ‘fraid of _anything_! You’re like a superhero!” TJ insisted.

Softly, Bucky said, “sometimes I’m afraid of Brock.” He continued washing TJ’s hair.

“He . . . he’s a bad boyfriend. I . . . I make Luna bite him if he comes here,” TJ insisted, continuing to wash himself.

“Thanks, Teej,” Bucky whispered and hugged his brother. “I love you so much!” Pulling his hands from TJ’s hair, Bucky smiled.

“Love you, too,” TJ smiled softly, face and eyes still red from crying. “Can . . . can we have pizza tonight for dinner?”

Nodding, Bucky said, “I’d love to have pizza with you, TJ! And I’ll even let you order it if you want to when we get home. Time to rinse, sweetie.”

“O - - okay,” TJ nodded and stepped under the spray to rinse off. After all the soap was rinsed from his body and hair, TJ let Bucky shut off the water as he stepped out, dripping on the tile. He grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his body. He stood there, with just the towel around his shoulders as he waited for Bucky to get out.

Bucky got out and grabbed a towel, drying quickly. He grinned at TJ. “I was thinking I could ask Helen if she wanted to do tests on me, too, TJ. Would that make you feel a little better?”

“Are . . . are you sick?” TJ asked, finally moving his towel to rub it through his hair.

“Nope,” Bucky said, mentally hoping Brock was as clean as he’d claimed, but Bucky wasn’t taking any chances. “But you can go to a doctor to make sure you aren’t getting sick, too, TJ.”

“Am . . . am I gonna hafta go in the big machine today, Buck?” TJ asked, finishing drying his body.

“I think so. Does that worry you?” Bucky reached over and began drying TJ’s hair for him, not dressing yet. He’d never had to hide his body from his brother and hadn’t started after the accident, either. He might be five years older, but Bucky had often bathed and skinny dipped with TJ as children and young teens.

“I . . . it’s okay, I guess,” TJ shrugged one shoulder, letting his brother dry his hair. The curls were getting a little long and would probably need to be cut soon. “Helen . . . Helen makes it go by fast.”

“And then we can come home and eat pizza and look at houses on the internet, right?” Bucky smiled and stroked TJ’s curls from his forehead, tossing the towel at the hamper and missing. He winced. “Damn. I used to be a better shot.”

“You played baseball . . . you were the one that threw the ball,” TJ stated, looking at the towel on the floor and then back at Bucky. 

Walking over to scoop up his towel, chuckling, and put it in the hamper, Bucky said, “oh, we’ve gotta put that in your memory book! You remembered I used to pitch varsity!”

Grinning, TJ nodded and said, “Momma and Dad went to your games! Dad would yell _super_ loud!”

Bucky grinned wider. “Yeah, he did. And he’d deliberately sit on the visitor’s side to make them mad when he cheered for me.” Bucky began to laugh. He led TJ to the bedroom and pulled out clean underwear for him, handing them over.

TJ pulled them on over his long legs and then smiled, “he . . . he wanted . . .” the young man blinked as the memory faded before he could fully grasp it, leaving the teen looking confused. That happened sometimes; TJ would remember something from his past, before the accident, but the memory would fade just as quickly as he’d recalled it.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, he did.” He had no clue what TJ had just tried to remember, but he didn’t want TJ to feel as if he were not only forgetful but incomprehensible. Bucky reached for the pajamas. “Your outfit, wolf-pup. I’m gonna get dressed and we’ll meet in the hall. Don’t forget Luna and your memory book.” Bucky smiled and headed out to cross the hall to his own room.

It only took TJ a few minutes to get dressed, including putting on his shoes, a pair of black, slip-on _Vans_. He held a worn looking stuffed black wolf in one arm and the journal he used as his memory book to write down things he remembered. Like instructed, he waited in the hall for his brother.

  
  


Bucky didn’t take more than a couple minutes. He came out just a few seconds after TJ, grinning still. “Good.” Bucky held out his phone. “You still gonna call Scott for us?” He’d privately called Scott already while dressing to make sure the driver would be available then warned him TJ would call him next. Bucky hadn’t wanted Scott to prove to be busy and have to turn down TJ.

Nodding vehemently, TJ grinned, “I wanna push the buttons!” Handing over the phone, Bucky instructed TJ which buttons to press. After TJ had pushed all the buttons, the phone began to ring. He held it to his ear and waited for Scott to pick up.

“Scott Lang, Uber,” Scott answered on the second ring, his voice happy.

Grinning, TJ said, “it’s TJ! We gotta go see Helen today.”

“TJ, my man! How’s it going, buddy?” Scott asked. “Let me check my schedule.” He paused, giving TJ a chance to answer.

“I’m . . . I’m good,” TJ answered, “wearin’ my safe suit so I . . . so I can go in the car. We hafta see Helen so I can go in the big machine for my head.”

“Wow, smart man to wear the safe suit,” Scott complimented. “Yeah, I can come get you right now. I’m about five minutes away actually. Will you be ready? Need more time?” Scott always treated TJ normally, even telling him regular stuff like sports scores and asking about the weather.

“Not uh! We’re all ready. I got Luna and my memory book,” TJ reported, looking at Bucky and then down at his shoes. “I got dressed all by myself!”

“Really?” Scott laughed, “you could probably teach my girl Cassie a thing or two.”

“I . . . I think I could . . . teach her?” TJ said and then continued after a pause, “you’ll be here in five minutes, right?”

“Actually, pulling up at your door now. We talked for five minutes, TJ,” Scott answered.

“Okay. I’ll see you outside,” and TJ hung up. Luckily, Scott would know that it wasn’t offensive, just the way TJ normally ended a phone call. Handing the phone back to Bucky, TJ said, “Scott’s outside.”

Nodding, Bucky grinned and tapped Luna’s stuffed head. “Ready, TJ? Let’s go see Helen and see what she wants.”

TJ nodded and walked towards the front door, freezing when they were a only a few steps from the door. He clutched Luna and the memory book tightly to his chest. He watched the door for several moments, not moving from the spot he’d stopped at.

Bucky walked over and opened the door for him, knowing there was only so much frightening things he could ask TJ to do at one time. Scott stood there, grinning, wearing a t-shirt with a big blue fish on it. “Hey, TJ, my man. I just learned a new song. Wanna hear it?” he asked in a loud, chipper voice.

  
  


Swallowing thickly, TJ’s eyes darted from Scott’s face to behind the Uber driver. After a few more moments, TJ nodded slowly and took a cautious step towards the door.

Scott grinned and held out both hands to his young customer of the past two years. “Just keep swimming . . .” he sang a song from a popular Disney movie, leading TJ to the van.

Bucky followed behind, shutting and locking the door quietly. He suddenly realized just how many people in his life helped him with his brother: Helen, Loki, Scott . . . and countless others when TJ did go out of the house on the very rare occasion. He had to fight tears of gratitude for so many kind people.

Once Scott had lead TJ to the van, the younger man slipped into the back seat and quickly buckled in. He squeezed his eyes shut and his hands trembled in his lap where he’d set down Luna and his memory book.

Bucky sank down next to him, buckled in, and placed his hands over TJ’s, leaning in close to start singing a soft lullaby in his ear. He kept up the serenade the entire time it took Scott to get them to Brooklyn and find parking at the clinic.

As soon as Scott had parked the car and turned it off, TJ unbuckled and hurried to get out of the vehicle. Bucky slipped an arm around his brother upon getting out of the van. He whispered, “want to pay Scott for me?” Best to get TJ thinking along other lines than reliving the ride, no matter how smooth.

TJ let out a shuddering breath and nodded, taking the money to pay Scott and handing it over to the driver.

Scott said, “call me when you wanna go home. You know I drive the safe van, TJ.” He slipped back into his van and carefully pulled into traffic.

Bucky slipped his arm around his brother and began walking him towards the door of Helen’s clinic.

Just as the pair turned towards the clinic, a horrifyingly familiar voice called out from the sidewalk, sounding like he approached them as he talked. “Barnes? Look who’s out and about on his day off,” Brock wore a pair of fitted black jeans and a dark blue t-shirt that hugged the fit man’s chest.

Stiffening with his arm still around TJ’s shoulders, his free hand holding TJ’s, Bucky looked over. He kept moving TJ carefully forward even as he called out a strained, “hello, Brock. Whatcha doing in Brooklyn?”

Brock quickly caught up with the pair, walking up to TJ other side, the teen’s right side, and grinned, though something in his dark eyes said that he wasn’t as pleased as he appeared. “Oh, you know, jus’ walkin’.” His eyes fell onto TJ, who’d huddled closer to Bucky’s side, and his grin widened even more. “You must be TJ! Bucky’s kid brother. He talks about you all the time. I’m Brock, your big brother’s partner.”

TJ’s pale eyes flickered to look up at Brock and then back at Bucky, “bad boyfriend,” was all TJ said.

Brock’s eyebrows rose in a genuine look of surprise as his eyes roved back to Bucky, “so, _definitely_ been tellin’ stories about me, huh?” 

“He wanted to know why I came home smelling of sex all the time. I told him I didn’t have time to shower when with my boyfriend, so . . .” Bucky reached for the door to open it.

Brock’s hand reached out to grab Bucky’s wrist, the motion so quick that TJ actually jumped in surprise as the burly man reach across him. Brock leered at his partner, “well, maybe you wouldn’t smell like that if you weren’t rushing to get home.”

“I rush home because I want to spend time with my brother. He means the world to me.” Bucky glared. “We’re running a bit behind, Brock. Do you mind?”

Brock glared right back and leaned over TJ to get closer to Bucky, TJ whimpering and stumbling back. “I _do_ mind if you’re tellin’ lies about me to your kid brother.”

“What lies? It’s true that I never get time to shower when leaving you to get to TJ. Where’s the lie in that?” Bucky shook his head. “Can you let me go? TJ’s got an appointment.”

Narrowing his eyes even more, Brock growled and shoved Bucky’s wrist out of his grip. “Yeah, whatever you say _Barnes_. I’ll see you tomorrow. Come prepared to work.” And with that, the older man turned on his heel and stalked away.

Drawing a shaking breath, Bucky opened the door and softly said, “let’s go see Helen, baby.” He was silently glad Brock hadn’t teased about TJ being in pajamas and carrying a stuffed wolf around.

“O - - okay,” TJ whimpered, turning his head to watch the back of Brock as the other man stormed out of the parking lot and back in the direction he was originally heading. TJ hugged Luna closer and the hand that held his memory book trembled. “He’s . . . s - - scary.”

Nodding, Bucky sighed, “I know. That’s why I don’t wanna bring him home. I didn’t want you to have to meet him.”

“I - - I’m sorry I didn’t get Luna to bite him . . . I - - I was too scared . . . he kept . . . he kept gettin’ close to me,” TJ apologized, looking up at Bucky with his wide eyes.

“Yeah, he did that because he knows it scared you. But,” Bucky smiled and leaned in to whisper in TJ’s left ear, “you didn’t pee this time.”

“I - - I didn’t,” TJ nodded, letting out another breath as they finally made it to the office where they checked in at. He looked around the waiting room, only a few people sitting in chairs, but it was busier than normal and TJ’s fingers gripped Luna tighter.

As soon as the nurse heard who they were she smiled and guided them into a private office, standing orders on TJ’s chart for waiting. The nurse also took some blood samples from Bucky and arranged for his other tests while TJ was in his scan, so Bucky would be free when TJ was out of the machine.

Helen Cho walked in and smiled. “Well, hello TJ. Bucky. I’m glad you made it. How did Luna do coming here?” she asked, walking over to her patient.

“She did okay,” TJ answered, looking up at the doctor, “‘cept Bucky’s bad boyfriend scared us. He’s not good, Helen.”

Helen tilted her head. “You’ve met Bucky’s boyfriend? Can you tell me why you feel he’s bad?” She sounded interested, taking the journal carefully and sitting it on her desk. TJ’s appointments often lasted a couple of hours.

“He makes Bucky smell bad. Then, we were outside and he grabbed Bucky’s wrist. He kept getting close to me on my hurt side. I don’t like that. Bucky’s gonna try to find a new house so his boyfriend doesn’t have to be his boss anymore,” TJ answered, his fingers continuously rubbing Luna’s worn ear.

“Well,” Helen nodded. “That is certainly a lot to be feeling bad about. I agree with you. I don’t think Bucky’s boss should be his boyfriend any more.” She glanced towards Bucky and saw his own agreement. Slipping a hand in her bottom desk draw full of folders, Helen pulled out a couple of pamphlets and passed them to Bucky. “To help you, Bucky.”

She then turned to TJ. “Ready for the machine? It’ll be over sooner that way and we can talk about what you remembered.”

Bucky glanced at the pamphlets and flushed, recognizing information on domestic abuse and safe contacts. He was a cop, and he was being handed advice about being abused by his boyfriend. Flipping to the second pamphlet, he wanted to crawl in a hole and hide. That one was about escaping and reporting abuse at work. He shoved the pamphlets, folded up, in his jacket pocket.

Nodding, TJ slipped off the examination table and started to follow Helen out of the room, saying, “Bucky’s gonna get us a house with flowers and he’s gonna move to another building to . . .” his voice faded as they got further and further away.

Bucky was able to finish his exam and tests before TJ returned.

TJ walked back in, followed by Helen, he beamed at Bucky, “scans all done, Bucky! I stayed really still.”

Smiling at TJ, looking up from where he sat, Bucky nodded. “Proud of you, wolf-pup. Come sit down, Teej. We can show Helen your memory book now.” He held up the book but held both arms out spread for a hug.

Giving his brother his lopsided grin, TJ hugged his brother tightly, even nuzzling at Bucky’s neck for a moment before hopping on the examination bed. He grinned at Helen “I ‘membered a whole lot this month!” He took the book from Bucky to hand it over to Helen.

The rest of the visit went very well and finally, Helen sighed and said, “TJ can you tell me what time the clock says?”

TJ looked over at the clock and blinked, looking surprised, “it’s three. Three is the time we go.”

Smiling, Helen patted TJ’s hand and nodded, “you are right. Very good. TJ, you may add to your book _’I remembered how to read the clock’_.” Helen paused then said, “that isn’t a digital clock, TJ. You remembered what hands pointed to where and how to read them.”

Grinning brightly, TJ looked at Bucky and said, “you see that, Buck? I read a _hard_ clock.”

“We’ll add practicing with one every day so you keep remembering, Teej,” Bucky hugged his brother, wanting to cry in delight at the unexpected breakthrough. Most of TJ’s memories came with prompting, often Bucky bringing something up and TJ elaborating a bit. This time, with the clock, it had been without warning.

Looking at Helen, TJ said, in a near boasting tone, “next time you see me, Helen. I’ll be _eighteen_.”

“Eighteen!” Helen grinned wide. “A grown up. Then Bucky has to let you stay up a whole extra hour on weekends, right?”

Bucky laughed. “TJ doesn’t have a set bedtime because he set his own.”

“Uh huh,” TJ nodded, going on to explain his set nap times throughout the day. Eventually he slipped off the examination bed, grabbing Luna and his memory book as he did so. TJ looked back at Helen, “Bucky says we can have pizza tonight.”

“Well,” Helen opened her desk drawer, “I should give you a birthday present, TJ.” She smiled and pulled out a brand new journal with a hard cover, the kind that Bucky used for his accounts and bills. It was green and white checkered and said _composition_. She handed it over. “This is so you can keep track of your dreams and wishes and plans. Anything you can imagine or want. You can make things up. I call it a _Wish Book_.”

Eyes widening, TJ tucked his memory journal under one of his arms and he carefully took the book from Helen like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Helen took a bright purple marker from her drawer and leaned on the book, still in TJ’s arm, and crossed off the word _composition_ with one thick line. She then wrote, above it, _WISHES_. “There. Your very own _Wish Book_. And when you fill it up, you can get more of various colors to add to it. We should always hold onto our wishes.” She stood and hugged TJ. “Happy Birthday in advance, TJ.”

“Thank you! This is the best present ever! You see it, Buck?” TJ showed off his new journal to his older brother.

Bucky nodded. “When we get home, you can put in your very first wish, if you want. As many as you want, even if you think they won’t ever come true, baby. Wishes aren’t silly unless you stop making them.” He hugged TJ again, smiled at Cho, and guided his brother outside to the waiting Uber, Scott long having memorized how long their various appointments took.

“Scott! Look! I got a new journal! Helen gave it to me for my birthday!” He showed the driver the composition book, not at all worried about the upcoming drive back to his and Bucky’s home.

Scott looked over the book with a huge grin, carefully flipping it over and over without opening it. Nodding, he said, “that’s the coolest. I had a _Wish Book_ when I was little. I used to write my Santa list in it every year. Funny thing is, sometimes I’d find those wishes under the tree. Santa was magic.” He handed it back with a grin. “Happy Birthday, TJ, my man. The thirteenth, right?”

“Uh huh, of August. That’s the ninth month in the year,” TJ pointed out, taking the book back with a grin. “Every year Bucky makes a cake.”

“Hey, you can write your birthday wishes in there, too!” Scott suggested. “And maybe what you wish your new house will have.” He opened the door to help TJ into the van.

TJ climbed in and buckled up, setting his items on his lap and suddenly seeming to realize that he was in a vehicle. He took a few breaths and his trembling hands tapped in his lap.

Scott grinned. “I’ve got a birthday gift for you, too, TJ. You can even use it in the car if you want.” Scott reached down and picked up a brightly wrapped gift with pink paper and glittery unicorns all over it. TJ might not realize it, but the gift looked more like it had been wrapped up for Scott’s six year old girl than for TJ. The driver handed the gift to TJ.

Looking surprised, TJ carefully took the gift and then looked back at Bucky and then the gift again. He started to open it, careful not to rip the paper too much. He revealed a lavender _Etch-a-Sketch_. Smiling, TJ looked over at Bucky and showed the toy to his brother, “look, Bucky! It’s purple!”

Bucky knew that Cassandra’s birthday was coming soon and that Scott had, in all probability, just given away a gift he’d gotten for his little girl. “That’s cool!” Smiling, Bucky nodded and sat down next to TJ in the van. He began to show TJ how to use the toy, throwing a very grateful look at the other man. Scott smiled, very lightly slapped the top of the van with a nod, then got in and began driving them home.

**************

Bucky sighed as he sank down into his desk chair in the small filing room, relieved the deodorizer had gotten rid of the musky sex scent before the cleaning crew had shown up before or he’d have heard an earful about having sex in the office. Pulling out his folder of active crime files, Bucky began going over the recent string of robberies, frowning over the nagging similarities to all of them. While they each happened in various locations, times, or by various perps, all of them had one thing in common: aside from robbing the business, the perps had managed to rob the staff member in some way before killing him or her. Something didn’t sit right about that. That was such an odd twist to these seemingly unrelated crimes.

The door opened and heavy footsteps echoed throughout the room before a pair of hands clapped down on Bucky’s shoulders, hard, but not hard enough to seriously injure the brunet. “Whatcha lookin’ at, Barnes?” Brock nearly growled.

“Hey, Rumlow. Just going over those robberies of the last seven months. The ones with the bodies.” He sighed, shaking his head. “It makes no sense. They aren’t related, but they all have this odd twist of the clerk being robbed before dying. You think it might be gang initiation or something? We could go ask the gang unit to take a look.” Bucky didn’t even look up at his partner.

Kneading Bucky’s shoulders, fingers digging in deep, Brock leaned over to look at the files Bucky had open. “Huh, guess it could be gang related, sport. We can ask if it matches any known initiations for gangs.” The older man’s cologne seemed to surround Bucky.

“It’s weird. All of these specific cases seem as if they had two separate crimes. One robbery of the location and a seperate one, but all done by the same perp. The original robbery doesn’t read like the same perp.” Bucky shifted in his chair under Brock’s hands and heavy scent, a couple of folded pamphlets falling from his light jacket he always brought with him, even on hot days.

“Dropped something,” Brock said, bending down to grab the pamphlets. A low growl escaped his lips and he slapped the papers down on top of the files. “You being fucking abused now? Playing the little _victim_?” 

“No, Brock!” Bucky couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to leave them in his jacket at all. “Dr. Cho gave them to me when TJ said I had a bad boyfriend who was my boss. I didn't even look at them, why would I? It’s not like I _need_ them.”

“Your fucking retarded brother needs to keep his damn mouth shut,” Brock snapped, his hand going to rest on the back of Bucky’s neck. “I can get his stupid ass locked up if he keeps runnin’ that mouth of his, you hear?”

“I’ll explain to him that not having time to shower isn’t abusive or bad, Brock. TJ’ll keep his mouth shut. It’s not like he understands. He’s like nine or something mentally.” Bucky didn’t pull away, knowing if he did, Brock would just be meaner with his words. Brock didn’t _hit_ Bucky . . . that would be real abuse, wouldn’t it? But, he might get rougher sexually just to punish Bucky. He reminded himself that as soon as he found a place and transferred, he’d be away from Brock permanently.

“You make sure he does. Can’t have your _stupid_ brother tellin’ lies about me, no matter how pretty he is. That’s not okay.” Brock let go of Bucky’s neck, his hand falling so he trailed his fingers down his partner’s arm. “So,” he leaned in closer to whisper, “what were you doin’ at that clinic anyways, Barnes?”

Bucky sighed and looked up to meet Brock’s eyes. He could honestly answer that question. “TJ’s monthly appointment. He goes to get head scans and have his memory and physical responses checked and talk with Dr. Cho.”

“Oh?” Brock drawled slowly, nodding. “And that’s all you were doin’, right? It wasn’t like you were checking on yourself? Not trustin’ that I’m clean?”

Shocked at Brock’s guess, Bucky didn’t show his surprise, thinking on his feet instead. “Like they’d give me an appointment in under two days? C’mon, Brock, what city doctor does that?” He shook his head, “and it’s not like I’d have anything to show them. Don't they need symptoms before they check that kind of thing?” He then stood, “and that clinic, Brock, if you didn’t know, is an _accident recovery_ clinic. I doubt they even have the stuff to check for diseases.”

Grunting, Brock let his eyes rove down Bucky’s form before looking back up at the younger man’s face. “Good. Because, I’m clean. And unless you’ve been whoring yourself out to anyone else, you’re clean.”

“Of course we’re clean. We’re exclusive,” Bucky answered automatically.

“Damn straight,” Brock nodded once, voice firm, “don’t want you sharing your sweet ass with anyone else. And eventually,” the older man let his hands fall on Bucky’s hips, “maybe after you explain it real simple for your kid brother, he won’t think I’m a bad boyfriend. Because, I take good care of you.”

Nodding, Bucky said, “take care of me better than any other boyfriend I’ve ever had.” He turned in Brock’s hands to pick up the pamphlets and toss them in the trash can.

Gently grinding his crotch against Bucky’s ass, Brock leaned over to whisper in his partner’s ear, “maybe,” his warm breath ghosted down Bucky’s neck, “we can be a family. I can take care o’ you and your kid brother. What do you say to that? Hmm?” He ground again, actually slipped a hand around to grip at Bucky’s cock over the younger man’s trousers.

Bucky felt far from sexually stimulated; he felt like throwing up. “I’ve got a lot of work with TJ before he’s ready for _anyone_ to come over, Brock. I don’t think he’d understand you coming over to hang out and play board games.”

“Aww, c’mon,” Brock squeezed Bucky’s cock again, “doncha want to have a family, Barnes? Have someone take care of you? Your kid brother can’t handle you actually having a life? Then, we’ll put him up in a real nice home. You can even visit with him couple times a week.”

Pulling away and glaring at Brock, Bucky firmly insisted, “no! I am _not_ putting TJ in a home! He lives with _me_!”

“When are you gonna open your eyes, sport?” Brock threw his hands in the air, looking exasperated, as if dealing with a rebellious teenager, “that kid is holding you back. You’re never gonna get promoted with all the requests you have to put in. Or how you have to answer your damn phone every hour.”

“I don’t want a promotion if it comes at the cost of deserting TJ!” Bucky growled, crossing his arms. “Anyone who wants me has to accept that I am TJ’s legal guardian and he will live with me, in my home, for the rest of his life.”

“And what if,” Brock said, actually calming down his tone so that he was speaking to Bucky as an equal, “somethin’ happens to you on the job, huh? What’s he gonna do then?”

“I have provisions in my will for TJ then. But that’s only in an extreme case, so probably not going to happen.” Bucky picked up his file and shoved it in the desk. “We’ve got team updates in five minutes. Let’s go.” He headed for the door. Bucky despised that Brock had to constantly try to get him to give up TJ. True, if something happened to Bucky, TJ would be placed in a home, but while he was still around and able, Bucky intended fully to keep TJ with him.

“You’re more of an idiot than your fucking retard brother, you know that?” Brock growled, storming after Bucky and grabbing the younger man’s bicep in a tight grip. “Get your head outta your ass, Barnes!”

“Problem, gentlemen?” Captain Fury’s smooth voice trailed down the stairwell to the partners.

“Nothin’, Captain,” Brock tossed Bucky’s arm away as if the limb were garbage, “jus’ trying to give my partner some advice.”

Nodding, Fury said, “let me give you some advice, as well, Rumlow. Get the hell upstairs and don’t miss my meeting! Barnes, my office after the meeting. You’re up for personnel review.”

With a repressed groan, Bucky nodded and headed up, past Fury, but stopped at the top of the stairs before getting to the gathering of other detectives. Fury ignored the young detective, watching Brock intently. “You got your progress on him written up yet? I still ain’t seen it.”

“Yeah, it’s in my desk, Captain,” Brock all but grumbled, walking over to his own desk to pull open a drawer and hand a file to Fury.

Taking the folder, Fury didn’t even glance at it. He nodded and said, “good. Go to the meeting. I’ll be there as soon as I hit the john. You keep things in order for me.”

“Yes, Sir,” Brock nodded, glaring at Bucky, a promise in his dark eyes that there would be hell to pay for Bucky earlier _rebellion_.

**************

After the quick fifteen minute review meeting, and the detectives going back to their open cases, Fury sat behind his desk watching Brock and Bucky intently. He said, “Rumlow, you can continue your gas station investigation. The county coroner said he has more information on the victim for you. I’ll send out Barnes when we’re finished.”

“Yes, Captain,” Brock said stiffly, turning on his heel to storm from the room.

Still in his meeting chair, Bucky straightened, ready for his evaluation review. He prayed there weren’t any little barbs slipped in this time from Brock, things that kept him in the junior status like it had the year before.

“Barnes, shut the door,” Fury ordered, firm but not mean. He looked down at a file on his desk.

Nodding, Bucky got up and shut the door. He turned around to head back to his seat.

Turning the file to face Bucky, letting the paper slap down in front of the younger man, Fury asked, “is there something you want to talk about, Barnes?” There, in the file, sat the crumpled abuse pamphlets that Bucky had tossed.

Seeing the pamphlets, Bucky went two shades paler. He gripped his hands together and stared at those papers as if they were some kind of rat trap ready to spring. Slowly, Bucky lifted his eyes to meet Fury’s and said, softly, “sir?” He didn’t realize it, but he had all the external symptoms right then of a victim.

“You know,” Fury said, leaning back in his chair, looking near casual, “back in the day when I was a new detective, fresh faced and ready to catch criminals, I had a senior partner. At first, I thought he was bein’ tough to teach me a lesson, to harden me up. Then, I realized, after talking with some of my fellow detectives, that not _every_ newbie was treated the way I was,” Fury leaned forward again, bracing his folded hands on the sturdy table, meeting Bucky’s eyes, “still, it took me over a year to report the bastard to my Captain.”

“I don’t have any proof against . . . him,” Bucky said, softly, afraid Brock could be lurking outside the door and overhear. Then there’d be hell to pay.

Opening another file, Fury’s eye scanned a few lines before saying, “your brother. You’re his legal guardian, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky lifted his eyes and straightened again. “He was in an accident . . . the whole family was, while I was in the academy. He’s the only one left and he depends on me for everything. Traumatic brain injury.”

Nodding, Fury continued to read something and said, clearly, “says here that he goes to a clinic in Brooklyn. Must be quite the drive for you to make from your current address.”

“TJ hates vehicles,” Bucky confirmed with a sigh. He got up and moved to Brock’s chair right beside the desk. Lowering his voice, Bucky said, “sir, I was thinking on transferring to Brooklyn. Find a place for me and TJ out there. But . . . I don’t think it’s . . .” his eyes flickered to the pamphlets, “such a good idea to tell Rumlow yet. He . . . he’s a bit . . . forceful when he doesn’t get what he wants?”

“I believe a spot just opened up in Brooklyn’s Homicide unit. I’ll contact the Lieutenant, a friend of mine,” Fury stated.

Panic lit Bucky’s eyes suddenly. “We haven’t found a house yet. We only just started looking, sir.”

“You do realize how long a transfer can take, Barnes? Lots of paperwork,” Fury said, “I’ll contact Lieutenant Hill, she’s young but a good Lieutenant.”

Nodding, Bucky let his eyes drop to the pamphlets once more and he practically whispered, “I don’t have proof, but . . . what if someone was . . . using me for sex . . . and was threatening to get me transferred and stuff if I didn’t agree?”

“If it was a fellow police force member, I would be forced to contact I.E.B. and report them. I.E.B. would then conduct a full investigation into your claims,” Fury answered honestly. 

Sighing heavily, Bucky slumped. “Like I said, no proof, sir. My word against his, and he’s been here a hella sight longer. I mean,” and Bucky didn’t realize he’d started babbling, “the only proof I’ve got is the doctor I saw yesterday, and my brother who knows everything . . . and maybe if the file room had a working camera instead of that dusty old one with the broken lens . . .”

“The file room’s camera got updated just last week,” Fury frowned, eyeing Bucky closely, “are you tellin’ me there’s something on footage in that room?”

Eyes widening, Bucky paled again. “Aw, fuck. I can’t lose my job, sir!” He couldn’t stop remembering how wanton he’d acted, how he’d demanded Brock fuck him.

“Barnes, were you raped in the file room?” Fury asked, bluntly.

Bucky closed his eyes and silently nodded. On a bare whisper, he said, “Tuesday. But I don’t think it’ll seem like rape since I asked him to.”

“And you said you told your brother? Can he be used as an outcry witness?” Fury asked, not seeming to be judging the young detective for being assaulted.

“He might’ve written it down, but he’s got memory issues,” Bucky still didn’t open his eyes. “Friday he told his doctor about Brock and she gave those to me.” Suddenly, realizing he’d named his boyfriend, Bucky’s eyes shot open and he paled almost pasty white, head spinning. He gripped Fury’s desk to keep his balance in his chair.

“And, if I were to send Detective Barton to your home to interview your brother, would your brother be able to tell him what you said?” Fury questioned.

“Barton from family crimes?” Bucky whispered, head reeling and stomach roiling. “TJ doesn’t like strangers so much, but maybe . . . maybe . . . God, I’m gonna be sick.” And Bucky leaned over, unable to hold back any longer, and vomited, his anxiety and fears getting the better of him.

Fury sighed and said, “once you get yourself together, I want you to go get yourself documented at the hospital. See if they can collect any evidence. I am going to go review those tapes.”

“He hasn’t done anything today, just grabbed my neck and shoulder,” Bucky whispered, embarrassed and weak from getting sick. He lay his head on the edge of Fury’s desk. “That was before you told us to go to meeting.”

“I still want you checked out,” Fury ordered the detective. “That’s an order, Barnes. Go to the hospital.”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky stood and the edges of his vision darkened. He opened his mouth and hit the ground, unconscious.


	3. New Places, New Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Severe anxiety disorder and panic attacks, Post Traumatic dissociation, Reference domestic abuse, Reference drunk driving**

Loki looked in on TJ, working in his new _Wish Book_ at the kitchen table, markers, pencils, crayons, and a box of colored pens scattered around him. The night nurse smiled softly and said, “how’s the wolf-pup doing?”

“Good,” TJ nodded, focusing on trying to write as neat as possible. His penmanship had taken a severe hit due to his injury; his printing was about as good as an average first grader’s. “Wanna know what my first wish was, Lucky?”

“I would love to know your first wish, Teej.” Loki walked into the room and smiled at TJ, hands behind his back.

TJ pointed to the first item on his list, written in red ink, Bucky’s favorite color. “I want Bucky to get a good boyfriend. Not a scary one.”

Nodding, Loki said, “the best wish, I think, is the one you wish for someone else.” He reached out and stroked TJ’s curls. “Would you like to meet a friend of Bucky’s from work? Not his boyfriend but someone else?”

Looking worried suddenly, TJ lifted his pale eyes to meet Loki’s, “and he’s a good friend? He isn’t gonna get close to my hurt side? I don’t like that.”

“This friend works with children who need the police. He knows how to stay away from the hurt side,” Loki reassured.

“And he’s nice? Not bad?” TJ asked again.

“He’s been nice so far,” Loki agreed, smiling gently. He’d never lied to his patient in the entire time he’d been caring for the other man. “He’s come over to ask you about Bucky’s boyfriend. Would you like to meet him?”

“I . . . okay . . . you won’t leave? You’ll stay?” TJ asked, chewing on his lower lip.

“Won’t leave at all,” Loki promised. He walked to the kitchen door and gestured, “this way.” Turning back around, Loki led a shorter, stockier, athletic man into the kitchen. “This is TJ Barnes. TJ, this is Clint Barton.”

Clint smiled, his blue-grey eyes kind. He pulled out his badge and offered it to TJ, aiming for his left side, having been warned that TJ was protective of his right. “I’m Clint. I work in the same office as your brother, Bucky.” The man had short cut blondish-red hair, unlike Bucky’s longer curls.

Slowly, TJ took the badge and looked at it, running slightly shaky hands over the metal of the badge. “Looks like Bucky’s,” TJ said simply.

Nodding, not taking his badge back immediately, Clint then showed his photo identification, which had his name, badge number, precinct, and other information clearly printed on it. “Would you mind if I talked with you a bit, TJ?”

“Okay,” TJ said, still holding both Clint’s ID and badge. He licked his lips and lifted his pale eyes to look at the detective.

Clint continued smiling, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “Hey, TJ, which chair is Bucky’s special chair? I know everyone always has a special chair, right?”

“He likes the one with the pillow,” TJ answered.

Nodding, Clint pointed out the chair. “That one?” Moving to the next chair over, Clint pulled it out. “Well, may I sit down if I don’t use Bucky’s chair?”

“Don’t use Bucky’s chair,” TJ agreed with a nod, watching the other man intently. He liked that he didn’t have to explain to Clint about the rule of not sitting in Bucky’s chair.

“Thanks.” Clint sank onto the hard kitchen chair and sighed, putting a notebook on the table in front of him and pulling out a bright purple colored pen. “I’m not always so good at remembering things, TJ. Mind if I write things down while we talk?”

Lips twitching in a small smile, TJ nodded and let Clint’s things drop to the table so he could point out his own memory book. “I write things down, too. ‘Cause I have a hard time remembering some things since I hurt my head.”

Clint looked surprised, but smiled wide, “really? I thought I was the only one! Wow, now I don’t feel so lonely.” He smiled up at Loki as the nurse put cups of cocoa in front of both men at the table. “Thanks!” Clint turned back to TJ. “Wanna know why I came to talk to you, TJ?”

“Lucky said you wanted to ask about Bucky’s bad boyfriend,” TJ stated.

Nodding, Clint sipped his cocoa carefully before pushing it slowly away from his notebook so he wouldn't accidentally knock into it. “That's right. Did you know that Bucky works for a man named Nick? And that Nick is in charge of all the cops at work?”

  
  


“Bucky says his boyfriend is his boss,” TJ stated.

“Did he say his boyfriend’s name?” Clint asked, beginning to write in very clear, slow printing.

“Uh huh. Bucky’s boyfriend is Brock. I met him,” TJ scrunched his nose up, “he kept gettin’ close to my hurt side. I don’t like that. He grabbed Bucky’s hand and wouldn’t let us go see Helen. Brock makes Bucky smell like gross sex.”

As he wrote, Clint nodded, still smiling, as if nothing TJ reported was _bad_ to say out loud. “Wow, you remember quite a lot, huh? I thought you said you had troubles.” He winked at TJ. Gently, he questioned TJ about the encounter in detail and about anything Bucky might have said. He asked if TJ had written any of it down, and if he could see what TJ wrote. The entire time, Clint kept using TJ’s name in a friendly way and reacting as if this conversation was nothing more than something Clint was curious about. He never once hinted that Brock was bad, didn’t agree with that assessment to accidentally reinforce it, but he didn’t stop TJ from expressing that opinion.

TJ nodded, opening his memory book to the right page; the younger man pointed at a specific part, “right here.” He handed over the book, showing the detective the nearly illegible writing. “I wrote _all_ ‘bout it right here.” TJ’s fingers spasmed slightly, showing that it was close to time for his morning dose of medicine.

“Wow. That’s a lot of writing. My hand would’ve been tired after writing all that!” Clint looked through the writing and took notes in his own book. He asked, “TJ, does Bucky own a computer?”

“Uh huh,” TJ nodded.

“Do you know if he writes to his boyfriend on the computer?” Clint pulled out his cellphone, not trying to hide what he did, and took pictures of the journal entry and the open _Wish Book_ page.

“I don’t go on the computer,” TJ said, “but, I have my tablet. Sometimes when I wake up at night, I see Bucky on his computer. He doesn’t look happy. I don’t like when Bucky’s sad.”

Nodding, Clint sighed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t like it if my brother gets sad.” He dropped the questions about the computer but knew they might have to get ahold of it for the investigation. “So, TJ, are you looking forward to Bucky getting home?”

Nodding vehemently, TJ looked to the clock on the wall, “Bucky comes home in four hours. I know. I watch the clock.”

Clint nodded. “You know when I’m feeling kinda sick, I come home early from work?”

“You can leave work early? Bucky never is before time. Sometimes he’s gotta work past time,” TJ looked surprised.

Clint sipped the last of his cocoa. “Well, tonight, Bucky got a sick tummy and went to a doctor to make sure everything was okay. He’s going to be coming home early and taking a couple days off to get better.” Clint watched TJ’s reaction carefully.

Eyes widening, TJ’s head snapped up to look at Loki, “Bucky’s sick!”

Loki soothed TJ’s curls and smiled gently. “I got a call from Nick, his boss’s boss. Nick said it wasn't bad, just that Bucky’s tired and worried. He’ll be home soon to spend time with his TJ and get better, because TJ knows how to make him feel better every time.”

“I can make him more waffles? He ate his all gone last time,” TJ offered.

“Why don’t we hold off on waffles until later. But I can show you how to use my kettle to make him some tea. And you can learn to use the toaster. Would you like that?” Loki smiled softly, noting that Clint gathered up his notebook, badge, ID, and pen.

“I used the toaster to make Buck’s waffles,” TJ said with smile.

“That’s right, you did! How could I forget something so important?” Loki sighed, eyes dancing. “I guess even I, the great Lucky, forgets things once in awhile.” He let his hand fall to TJ’s good shoulder and sit there gently.

Giggling, TJ looked at Clint and asked, “you going?”

“Well, I can if you want me to, TJ, but I was hoping to stay with you guys until Bucky gets home? Just so I can update you if the boss calls with information?” He lifted his phone and shook it slightly. “I wondered, TJ, if you wanted to learn something new?”

TJ nodded, “I want to learn!”

“Cool,” Clint said and carefully pulled a piece of paper from his notebook, setting it on the table and pulling out his purple ink pen again. He began to draw a box on little circles then a simply house. “Okay,” Clint drew three stick figures, two in the box and one in the house. Of the two in the wheeled box, one sat higher than the other. “This is the cop car and that’s the office. Right?” Clint looked to TJ, pointing to each.

“Uh huh, ‘cept a cop car has the lights,” TJ pointed out softly, looking at the picture.

Clint drew a set of boxes with little slashes coming out on top of the wheeled box. “Better?”

TJ nodded.

“Okay, see the driver? That’s Brock. And the other one is Bucky.” Clint pointed to each, drawing a small wheel in Brock’s stick figure hands. Brock was the one sitting higher in the car than Bucky, whom Clint drew longer hair on.

“Brock’s bad and makes Bucky smell bad,” TJ said.

Clint didn’t acknowledge that statement, instead he continued. “They’re partners. They work together. But since Brock is the partner who was at work before Bucky, he’s called a _senior_ partner. That’s why he sits higher and says he’s Bucky’s boss. Does that make sense so far?”

“He says he is Bucky’s boss so he sits higher,” TJ nodded, still looking at the picture Clint drew.

Clint nodded, smiling. “But their real boss is Nick,” Clint pointed to the figure in the office. “That’s Nick. He’s the boss over all the cops, even Brock. So, Brock sits higher than Bucky, but Nick sits higher than everyone. Bosses get to sit higher because they get nicer chairs and pillows.” He waited for TJ to put that concept together.

“Because they’ve been there longer? So, they get good, comfy chairs? Does that mean Bucky is the boss here?” TJ asked, tilting his head slightly.

Nodding, Clint looked delighted. “Exactly! You’re smart, TJ. And so you know that some bosses are nice and some aren’t.”

Smiling when Clint called him smart, TJ nodded, “Bucky’s nice and Brock’s not.”

“Now,” Clint took the picture and wrote, carefully in slow printing beside each picture, _Partner_ , _Senior Partner_ , and _Captain_. “Bucky is a partner cop. Brock is a senior partner cop. And Nick is Captain Cop!” Clint made the last sound like a superhero shouting his own name for the world. He drew an eyepatch on Nick’s stickfigure.

TJ giggled and said, “does Captain Cop cover his eye because that eye shoot lasers or somethin’?” He pointed to the eyepatch.

“Huh, you know,” Clint looked at TJ and winked, “I never asked. He’s a nice boss, but he’s scary! He sounds like a dog barking sometimes, growling. Does Bucky ever get growly?”

“Uh huh, when he gets mad or when I tried to take his plate to fix his waffles,” TJ nodded, still smiling.

The door sounded, a key in the lock, slow and stumbling a bit, like Bucky after a very long double-shift. Loki smiled. “TJ? Would you like to come get the door with me?” The nurse stood gracefully.

“Bucky!” TJ grinned and hurried from his chair, rushing towards the front door to greet his brother.

The door opened and Bucky looked exhausted, pale and shaky. He looked rumpled and he wasn’t in uniform, nor did he smell of stale sex. Instead, he smelled of the hospital and faintly of vomit.

TJ hugged his brother, “Bucky! You home. You home three hours early! Clint said your tummy hurt.”

Nodding, Bucky hugged TJ, the medical identification bracelet still around his wrist from checking into the emergency room. “Yeah, I talked to the Captain about Brock, TJ, and got so upset, I threw up all over his floor.” Bucky sighed and shook his head, too tired to be embarrassed. “He said I’m not going to be Brock’s partner anymore and Brock isn’t my boss anymore. I’m working on the desk until he can transfer me to Brooklyn.”

“Brock’s bad and is a bad boyfriend. You get another good boyfriend. That’s my first wish in my book. Ask Lucky, he saw.” TJ beamed.

Nodding, Bucky let TJ go and said, softly, “Brock’s not my boyfriend any more, TJ. The Captain said if Brock tries to come near you or me, he’ll get in trouble.”

“Good,” TJ nodded, hugging Bucky again and then hurrying off into the kitchen. He started to put water in Loki’s kettle. “We move to new house with flowers and you get the job in the new building. Bucky’s gonna get a nice boyfriend.”

Loki looked from one Barnes brother to the other as Clint quietly slipped out of the house, calling at the last minute, “thanks for talking with me, TJ. Goodnight!”

Bucky sighed. “We’ve got to find a place in Brooklyn as soon as possible. But do you know how long it takes to get a house?”

“Quite some time,” Loki answered. He put out a plate and a mug for TJ to work with. “Perhaps an apartment while you’re waiting to sell this place and buy the new one? Or rent part of a duplex or something?”

Bucky froze and slowly looked at Loki. “Lucky . . . you’ll still work as TJ’s nurse? I mean, that’s a commute, isn’t it?” He worried that they’d have to replace Loki, which wouldn’t make TJ happy at all; his brother was comfortable with Loki.

“We’ll work it out,” Loki promised. “But not tonight. Tonight is for both of you to work on the _Wish Book_ and coloring and board games. TJ, it’s time for your snack, right? Then your nap. Why don’t you have tea and toast with Bucky then you can lay down together in his big bed to nap.” Loki had long ago worked around TJ’s odd sleep schedule, which didn’t ever run more than three hours in a straight shot. Thus, TJ got smaller meals throughout the day and night and naps often. They rarely used the word _sleep_ , since it seemed to trigger anxiety most times. Naps didn’t bring the illusion of nightmares so TJ felt more comfortable with that word.

“Snack time. Three. Nap time. Four.” TJ nodded and then looked at Bucky, “can I nap with you, Bucky?”

Bucky held open his arms for another hug, “please? I need TJ time tonight.” Everything had started to happen so fast and Bucky didn’t quite believe it yet. He dreaded Brock’s reaction when Fury told him the new arrangements, as well as about the restraining order. Apparently, whatever had been caught on the file room camera had stirred Fury into very drastic actions.

Grinning widely, TJ rushed back over to tuck himself in Bucky’s arms, nuzzling at his brother’s neck. “I love you, Bucky! You’re the best superhero ever!”

Smiling at last, Bucky said, “I’m not the superhero. You are.” He hugged, careful of TJ’s right side, despite the arm loosely about his brother.

“Not uh,” TJ shook his head, “you catch bad guys. I don’t catch bad guys.”

“You caught this one,’ Bucky said and kissed TJ’s left temple. “You showed me how Brock is a bad guy. You’re _my_ hero.”

“I did?” TJ grinned at his brother and then turned his eyes to look at Loki, “you hear that? I caught a bad guy, Lucky!”

Nodding, Loki smiled softly. “I heard. That makes you my hero, too, wolf-pup. The kettle is making a whistle noise. That means it’s boiling. You need to be very careful and pour the water in the mug until it’s even with the handle.” Loki pointed the the top of the handle, but the bottom curve of the ceramic, basically the top of the hole in the grip.

TJ’s tip of his tongue poked out in concentration as he grabbed the kettle to very carefully pour the boiling water. He poured three mugs of hot water and then set the kettle down. Grinning at Loki, TJ boasted, “I did it! All by myself!”

A proud smile crossing his face, Loki nodded. “Very good, TJ. Not even a single drop spilled. And your hands? Do they feel strong enough to work on toast, too?”

Looking down at his hands, which shook, but not as bad as sometimes, TJ met Loki’s eyes, “I think I can do toast.” He went over to the bread basket and pulled out the loaf of bread, taking two slices out of the packaging. When it came to dropping the slices in the toaster, TJ missed the first two attempts.

Loki walked over and said, “one slice at a time, darling. Try again.”

TJ nodded and did as Loki instructed, after several moments he finally managed to put both slices in the toaster. “I did it!” TJ grinned, pushing down the little lever on the toaster.

“Good boy!” Loki picked up the package and pulled out two more slices, laying them on a second plate. Sealing the rest of the bread, Loki put the steeping tea and bread in front of his patient. “For your snack, too,” he smiled.

Bucky went to get his laptop and came to sink on his cushioned chair, a bit surprised when he didn’t feel discomfort for the first time in over two years. Then again, Brock hadn’t had a chance to have sex with him yet, either. _‘Yet,’_ Bucky thought, _‘won’t be happening again.’_ The thought felt terrifying as well as liberating.

Grinning, TJ looked at his snack and then at the pieces of bread in the toaster. Turning his attention to Bucky, he asked, “you want your snack, too, right, Bucky?”

“Definitely,” Bucky smiled, looking up from his computer. “And we can look at houses while we eat.”

Loki put out butter and sugar. Sinking into a chair, the nurse pulled over some bread and began putting peanut butter on one slice, thankful no one in the house had a nut allergy.

Once Bucky’s bread came out of the toaster, TJ slathered both pieces with butter. He looked at the mug and plate and then at Bucky, trying to determine if he could make it to his brother without spilling. Taking a breath, TJ grabbed the handle of Bucky’s mug with a slightly trembling hand and then the plate. Slowly, watching his hands, the younger man shuffled his way over to his older brother.

Moving his laptop to give TJ plenty of space, Bucky watched, praying TJ’s strength in the right hand held out with that plate in it. He smiled up at TJ.

TJ’s right hand only just started to give out as he made it to Bucky, able to set the plate down without spilling everywhere. Once both mug and plate were down, TJ grinned, his right hand trembling worse than before.

Bucky carefully reached out and stroked TJ’s right hand, massaging the normally guarded limb with a sure touch. “Very good, TJ. You’re getting stronger. Does it hurt?”

“A little . . . but, I wanted to give you your plate and tea,” TJ said, meeting his brother’s eyes.

“And thank you so much,” Bucky smiled up at TJ. “You did so well! And look how strong you’re getting!” He leaned over and gently kissed TJ’s palm, letting the fingers curl around the kiss. “My brother. My beautiful, wonderful brother.”

“I love you, Bucky! You’re the best brother ever!” TJ grinned, his fingers on his right hand twitching slightly. “We gonna move to a new house and you get work at new building! We’re gonna be better! And you can get a good boyfriend, one that doesn’t make you stink.”

Loki softly said, “one that makes you smile, I would think would be better.”

Bucky flushed a bit but didn’t argue. Instead he said, “TJ, you gonna make your own toast or eat your bread plain?”

“I want plain bread!” TJ insisted and then made his way back to the kitchen to his bread and tea which he began to nibble at. He sipped at his tea and then nibbled at his bread, alternating between his two choices like he often did. It didn’t take him long before he finished his snack sized portions and yawned, rubbing his eyes.

Loki smiled and stood TJ up. “Time to brush your teeth and get your nap, darling. Come along, Bucky, you can use your laptop in bed. It won’t bother TJ to have an extra night light.”

Bucky obeyed, following his brother around as he prepared for bed then climbing into the master bed left behind by his parents after the accident. He settled on his side, letting TJ snuggle into the other side. “Better, Teej?” he asked softly, clicking on yet another place to look at.

“Mhmm,” TJ murmured, getting his body as close to Bucky as possible. He yawned again, a fresh, minty scent coming to Bucky from his brother’s freshly brushed and rinsed mouth. “I love you, Buck.”

“I love you, baby brother,” Bucky looked down at TJ, his eyes soft and worried.

**************

“No!” TJ wailed, shaking his head as his brother tried to ease him from the van which was parked in front of their new apartment. It seemed that the younger man had been totally accepting of the idea of moving while still in his familiar family home. Now, being in a foreign area, without his _safe spots_ , TJ was having a very hard time with the actual reality of moving.

Kneeling beside the open van door, hands holding TJ’s uninjured left arm, Bucky coaxed, “come in and look at it, baby? Just look. All your stuff is inside waiting for you.” They’d had very little time to pack up and move to Brooklyn, especially if Bucky was to avoid both Brock and a long commute.They had this weekend left to finish settling in before Bucky started at his new precinct and every moment spent trying to deal with TJ’s proclivities was another moment lost.

Bucky hadn’t found anything and finally used Loki’s suggestion of a friend of his brother, Thor. The man, Mr. S. Rogers, actually had a duplex he’d wanted to rent out the second floor of. It was a wonderful two bedroom, one bath, with a kitchenette and living room area, and it even went for a reasonable price. Bucky could keep house hunting while living there. There were only two flaws with the situation: it was on the second floor, which meant TJ would have to deal with steps, which had begun to terrify him after the accident, and the duplex wasn’t home, which set off all of TJ’s anxiety alerts.

“C’mon, TJ, please? You can’t stay in Scott’s van. Come in and see your new bedroom. Loki’s already here . . .”

Shaking his head frantically, TJ sobbed, both his hands trembled violently even with clutching Luna tightly to his chest with his right. “No! I wanna g - - go back home! No!” The younger man, just two weeks from turning eighteen, looked pale and like he was about to get sick.

Behind them, a large blond man with friendly bright blue eyes watched the scene unfolding with a small, worried frown. He’d been out watering the flowers in his front window boxes when the unfamiliar van pulled up in front of the duplex. He could only assume that these were the tenants renting the upstairs apartment from him. He’d only talked with the renter, Bucky, over the phone after Thor had given him his number. He knew the bare minimum of the history, since Thor’s brother, Loki, was the nurse for the handicapped younger brother.

Watching the scene unfold, about to step in to help, Loki, behind the tall blond, whispered, “ _severe_ anxiety with new situations.” He strode out and over, offering a smile to TJ. “Wolf-pup! You made it. And that was a long ride, too. How proud I am of you for getting this far. Did you want to see the flowers? You surely can’t think of leaving without seeing the pink and purple flowers first?” Loki had his gentle smile in place, his voice calm and almost a caress to the frightened young man.

TJ’s eyes snapped in the direction of Loki, he let out a tiny whimper, a visible shudder running down his spine. “Pink and purple . . . flowers? Like . . . like Nana had?” His voice was low, frightened, and broke several times due to hitches in his breathing.

Loki nodded and held out both hands to TJ, smiling softly. “Just like your Nana, wolf-pup. Come on. Let’s look at the pretty flowers?”

Sniffling, TJ’s eyes darted to behind Loki before he looked back at his nurse. Slowly, he reached out with his trembling hands and took Loki’s, letting the older man help him out of the car.

Bucky stood, relieved to have a way to get TJ moving, distracted for the moment. He was glad the owner had planted pink and purple flowers specifically or they might have been coaxing TJ for hours until he’d had to be sedated.

Loki guided TJ up to the home, staying on his left side so TJ felt his injured right wouldn’t get bumped. “See? This is my friend, Stevie. And he’s caring for the flowers, TJ.”

TJ huddled against Loki’s side, wide, bloodshot, pale blue eyes taking in the sight of the pretty pink and purple flowers before forcing his attention to the large blond standing nearby. “H- - hello . . . your . . . your flowers are . . . pretty . . .” His fingers twitched by his side, his right arm still keeping Luna close to his chest.

The large blond, _Stevie_ , smiled gently at the frightened young man. He made sure to give TJ space, having been told that TJ’s right side had been injured in a car accident and seeing how the young man _guarded_ his right. “Thank you! I try very hard. My Momma taught me how to care for flowers. These were her favorite. Reminded her of rainbows.”

Bucky stepped up next to TJ, close to his right side, but not close enough to upset his brother. It was more of a _‘see, I’m here protecting you on this side, brother’_ gesture. He was too concerned over his brother to really look at the man with the watering can. “Want to smell them, TJ? There’s no bees so it’s safe.”

TJ nodded and very carefully bent over so he could smell the sweet scent of the flowers. Straightening, TJ looked at his brother, saying softly, “they . . . they smell . . . g - - good . . .”

Steve, for his part, didn’t get any closer to the threesome, letting Bucky and Loki try to keep the younger man calm. The blond, however, never lost his gentle smile. “You’re welcome to smell them anytime you want.”

The slender brunet’s eyes moved to look up at the duplex and he let out a very small whimper, shaking his head and taking a step back, as if wanting to go back to the van.

Loki patted TJ’s left arm and soothed, “did you want to at least see inside first?”

Bucky didn’t distract TJ from Loki, not wanting to confuse him or overwhelm him. Letting him work with only one person at that critical moment, the exhausted, worried brunet offered the big blond an absent, sweet smile, pale eyes worried.

“Steve Rogers,” the blond offered his hand, smiling at Bucky. Nothing in his manner showed that he was upset or maybe thinking twice about offering his upper-level apartment to Bucky and TJ.

“Bucky Barnes,” Bucky responded with a smile. “We’re your new tenants. TJ’s special. He was in a bad accident, the only survivor, and now has extreme anxiety. It triggers from quite a bit, but mostly from not having his safe places. Unfortunately, the move just took those away.”

“Well,” Steve looked at TJ, who was murmuring quietly to Loki, and then back to Bucky, “let me know if there is anything I can do to make this hard transition easier on him.” The blond sounded like he genuinely wanted to help.

Bucky nodded. “Actually, yeah. There is. We’ve got a protection order against someone, so if anyone comes looking for us, we don’t exist. Until we can get sorted and settled? Is that too much?” He ran a hand through his long hair.

Blue eyes widening in surprise and worry, Steve nodded, “yeah, of course. Are you . . . okay? I’m sorry,” Steve shook his head, flushing, rubbing his free hand over the back of his neck, “you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to . . .”

“My ex is having separation issues. He wasn’t done playing God yet,” Bucky answered, tone bitter and low. “And he’s pissed because TJ was the one who ratted him out. Took a job transfer and moved here to get away from him. It’s the only reason I accepted your offer, through Loki. TJ hates stairs and so living up on a second floor’s gonna make it impossible to get him back down once we get him up there.” SIghing, Bucky watched TJ and Loki for a long moment, “after the accident and our parents and sister were killed, I had to shut up the second level of our house so TJ would stop freaking out so bad.” It was evident that the young man didn’t have anyone close to tell his daily troubles to or he wouldn’t have given away so much.

Blinking, taking in all the new information about his tenants, Steve nodded slowly, “why does he hate stairs?” He kept his voice low, keeping the conversation between him and Bucky.

Shaking his head, Bucky said, “I don’t know. They scare him and he says he doesn’t trust them, but I can’t figure out why. It doesn’t tie into his accident, which was a car accident, so even his counselor can’t figure out where this particular fear has come from. But it’s one of the worst. He’s literally had to be sedated the two times he couldn’t avoid inside stairwells since the crash.”

Frowning softly, Steve said, “I would offer you both the downstairs apartment but there is only one room. The upstairs is actually the bigger of the two . . .” the blond sighed.

Sighing, Bucky said, without looking at Steve, “I’d take the offer and share with him in a heartbeat, his fear is so great.” He shook his head and carded his hand through his hair again. “Thanks, though. You live downstairs, right?” Finally, Bucky turned his pale blue eyes on Steve and barely smiled, his worry so evident.

“Yeah, downstairs,” Steve confirmed and asked, “have you tried carrying him up? Maybe it has something to do with him actually _walking_ up stairs?” The blond didn’t sound so sure of himself, but it was clear that he wanted to help.

Blinking slowly, Bucky looked back at his brother, who was very thin and had not put back on the weight he’d lost after the accident. He could manage lifting TJ if he had to; he’d done it before when TJ wasn’t well. Slowly, smiling, Bucky said, “I’ll give it a try. Couldn’t make things worse after all. Thanks, Stevie.” He headed towards his brother finally on the porch. Touching TJ’s left shoulder blade, alerting TJ that he’d come up behind, Bucky said, “hey, baby, how’s the tour of the porch? You made it this far, I’m so proud!”

“Luna wants to see the inside . . . but,” TJ eyed the front door as if it was something that would come out and bite him. “That’s not home. That’s not where Momma, Dad, and Becca were.”

“I know, Teej,” Bucky said. “But we brought their pictures and some things with us so they’ll be here, too. It’s our new home. Remember? So we can live in Brooklyn.”

Shaking his head, pale eyes never leaving the door, TJ said, “we left them upstairs. We left them upstairs.”

Bucky suddenly wondered, shocked, if TJ refused to do stairwells because he was deluding himself on purpose that their family was still alive, only living upstairs, and that going up there would shatter the illusion? But then why wouldn’t TJ ask for them to come downstairs? He hoped he was reading too much into the words, jumping to connect things unrelated. “TJ, we have their pictures and Becca’s bear. They weren’t left upstairs.”

“ _No_ ,” TJ insisted with a shake of his head, “we left them upstairs. Becca’s gonna be sad without her bear. She needs her bear. We took her bear and she’s gonna be sad now.”

Taking TJ’s waist from the left side, Bucky said, low and serious, “TJ, look at me, baby. Look at my eyes.” Loki dropped back and shook his head, pulling something quietly from his shoulder bag.

It took a few moments but TJ finally met Bucky’s eyes, his own pale one’s frightened and worried.

“You remember that Becca and Momma and Dad died, right? They aren’t living upstairs.” Bucky said firmly.

“No,” TJ shook his head, “no, no, no. They are upstairs and we left them upstairs. We gotta go back. They’re upstairs, Bucky. Don’t you hear them upstairs?” TJ’s own tone was insistent, never taking his eyes from Bucky’s.

“No, TJ. There was nothing and no one upstairs back there. I sold the furniture for the bills. The rooms were empty. No one lived there,” Bucky continued in that calm, firm manner.

“ _No_ ,” TJ snapped, “stop it. They’re upstairs. We gotta get Becca’s bear back. Becca needs her bear.”

Bucky shook his head, never taking his eyes off TJ. He pulled out his phone without looking and held it out towards the closest person, Steve, scene Loki was busy with something else. “It’s already unlocked. Open the photo file and then the grave one,” he instructed, using the same calm tone.

Steve did as he was told, having set down his watering can. He worried about where this conversation was heading but knew that Bucky would know how to best handle his brother. He opened the photos and selected the one with one gravestone with three names written on it and pictures of the deceased set in the stone. He handed the phone back to Bucky.

Bucky handed the phone to TJ. “TJ, they aren’t upstairs. They’re in the cemetery in Brooklyn. They’re right next to Nana and Pops.”

“ _No_!” TJ shouted, only taking a quick glance at the picture on Bucky’s phone, “no, no, no. They’re . . . they’re . . . up . . .” TJ dropped the phone and actually _shoved_ Bucky back a step, not hard, but something he’d never done before.

Loki stepped up beside TJ and took his arm in one hand, firm yet not bruising. The other hand held a needle, which he injected in TJ’s arm. “It’s okay, wolf-pup. It’s okay now,” he soothed. Loki never looked away from his patient but said, “catch him. He’s going to pass out soon.”

Steve didn’t even hesitate, being the closest person, before scooping up the suddenly limp TJ. He looked over at Bucky, “can you show me which room is his?”

Stooping to pick up his phone, ignoring the shattered screen, and the stuffed wolf, Bucky sighed and looked to Steve. “Doesn’t matter, actually. He needs to be in the big bed when he wakes up. He’s going to be living in that room for awhile, I’m thinking. The last breakdown this bad, he didn’t come out of my bedroom for a week except to secretly use the toilet.” Glancing back at the phone, Bucky shook his head, “Loki, once he’s settled in the bed, can you call Cho and have her send his counselor, Riley? I hadn’t realized TJ was dissociating, thinking they were alive and upstairs all this time.”

Steve held TJ securely in his strong arms; he looked at Bucky and asked, “can you please open the door? It’s unlocked.”

Nodding, Bucky slid the phone back into his pocket and opened the house door. He ran up the steps without even looking around his new home, opening the doors upstairs until he found the room where his large bed, formerly his parents’ bed, had been set up. Stepping out of the way, he let Steve then Loki into the room, the nurse preparing to care for the sedated patient even during the day for the moment. He would be pulling a double like Bucky often did.

Steve carefully set TJ down on the bed before stepping back to give Loki plenty of room to work.

As Loki began settling his charge, Bucky handed the nurse the wolf. Loki smiled and placed Luna on TJ’s right side, to protect it. “You might want to get that phone replaced, Bucky. I’ll take care of TJ and call Riley. Go get settled.”

“If you need to go to the store to get a replacement phone, I can drive you?” Steve offered; it hadn’t escaped his attention that Bucky and TJ had shown up in an Uber, so, most likely didn’t have their own vehicle.

Bucky looked at Steve and softly said, “thanks. I’d appreciate that. This thing is my lifeline to Teej and to work. I need it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Steve grinned and looked at Loki, “should I give you my phone number in case you need to get a hold of Bucky while we get his new phone?”

“Please, Steve,” Loki offered a smile. He nodded towards his shoulder bag. “In there. Just write it down on the sticky pad and I’ll program it in later.”

Steve nodded and pulled out a sticky note and a pen from Loki’s bag, scribbling his number down on the paper. He left the note in clear view and then looked back at Bucky, “I have to check on Malakai first but then we can go?”

“Sure.” Bucky slowly frowned and asked, “who’s Malakai?”

“My friend’s dog. He’s a Husky mix. He’s super sweet but I didn’t know if you liked dogs or anything. Also, didn’t want him jumping on you or your brother while you guys came in,” Steve headed towards the door of the room, “a dog isn’t a problem is it?” Steve looked suddenly worried. How could he forget to ask that when Bucky had called about the apartment before? “I’m sitting him for a couple of months,”

“A dog is fine. TJ loves dogs,” Bucky answered.

“Oh,” Steve looked relieved, “good.” He grinned at Bucky and said, “I’ll meet you out front when you’re ready? No rush.”

“Thanks for this, Steve. I know he’s a handful and you’re meeting him on a really bad, meltdown day, but TJ’s a good kid. He tries hard.” Bucky worried at his bottom lip.

“Don’t worry about it. I know how it is,” Steve nodded, giving Bucky a reassuring smile, “take as much time as you need. I’ll just be out front after checking on Malakai.” And with that, Steve walked out of the apartment.

Bucky sighed and glanced around then headed out front, already carrying with him what he needed. This wasn’t the first time TJ had dropped his phone, so the store had Bucky’s phone on permanent file with warranties and insurance against breakage and such.

It only took Steve a few minutes before he walked outside, twirling a set of keys on his finger and flashing the brunet another grin. He started towards a dark blue sedan parked in the driveway. “So, you’ll hafta tell me which store you use,” Steve called over his shoulder. Nothing in his attitude suggested he was upset by TJ’s meltdown.

Nodding, Bucky gave the name and let himself into Steve’s car, buckling in carefully. He paused with his hands on the buckle then blew out softly and moved his hands to his lap, folding them together. Facing out the windshield, Bucky said, “TJ’s good maybe seventy-five percent of the time? He has a very regimented schedule he follows and is easy going and usually pretty happy. He’s mentally between about nine and sixteen, but it fluctuates throughout the day over and over.”

“Bucky,” Steve put his key into the ignition but didn’t start the car, “it’s okay. I know that TJ’s a good kid. He got frightened and a very big bubble just burst for him.”

“I’m _not_ putting him in a home,” Bucky said firmly, as if he was used to arguing that particular case.

“Never said you should,” Steve said calmly and then added, “my mother actually worked in a home for people like TJ. They aren’t bad places. But I think family should stick together.”

“It’s in my will already. If something happens that I can’t provide for him, he goes into a good home of Loki and Cho’s determination. We’ve narrowed it down to a handful. But not while I can still provide for him!” Bucky’s tone took on a trembling quality. Apparently, someone had been pressuring him recently to put TJ in a home.

“That’s good. It’s clear that TJ loves you,” Steve nodded, turning on the car and easing out of the driveway. “And that you love him. As long as you’re able to give him what he needs, I think it’s a great decision to have him stay with you.”

Turning his head to look at Steve, Bucky let out a long sigh, almost a sob. “Thanks. Sometimes . . . sometimes I doubt myself when _his_ voice rattles around too much.”

Steve nodded, even though he didn’t know who Bucky referred to, “you’re doing good, from what I can tell. Most people would have just let him keep on believing your family was still alive because that was the _easy_ path.”

“And have him freak out every day thinking we’d left the family home with them locked upstairs? No, TJ needs to face reality. I hate to do it to him, but he can’t go thinking that if he went back to Manhattan he’d find them.” Bucky sighed and looked at his hands a long moment before adding, “Becca was TJ’s twin. Older by about ten minutes.”

Sighing softly, Steve said, “that had to have been really hard on him.” He headed in the direction of the store.

“Yeah, all four of them were in the accident, and TJ was the only one who lived. He’s been doing well recovering the past couple of years, slow but steady. I sometimes wish I hadn’t been away . . . that I’d been here for them. But I have to remind myself that I woulda been in the car, too, and probably dead or at least as badly injured as Teej. The car was . . . unrecognizable. Jaws of life, the whole works.” Bucky couldn’t help telling things to this stranger; Steve had a sympathetic manner that Bucky have been missing and craving since he’d lost his family.

“And then you wouldn’t be here to care for TJ,” Steve nodded, keeping his eyes on the road but letting Bucky vent his feelings, “was it ice on the road? Or . . .” he trailed off, knowing that Bucky needed to get everything off his chest.

“Drunk driver hit them. TJ was in a coma for three months,” Bucky said, quietly, wringing his hands together, fingers tangling and brushing and tangling, over and over.

Shaking his head, Steve said, “there are so many safeguards for people nowadays. Why they still choose to drive drunk . . .” the blond glanced at Bucky and then back at the road, “but, he pulled through. TJ’s alive and healing.”

“Yeah, and we won’t ever figure out why that guy was driving drunk.” Bucky looked up, folding his hands together so tightly his knuckles turned white. “TJ was the _only_ survivor.”

Nodding, Steve turned into the parking lot of the shopping center where Bucky’s phone store was. He found a spot and parked the car. Looking over at his tenant, a practical stranger, Steve asked, “are _you_ okay? Seeing what you saw today couldn’t have been easy.”

Drawing a slow breath, Bucky said, “I’ll arrange to talk with Riley, too. It’s about time I see him anyway.” Bucky’s hand absently moved up to his chest, where TJ had pressed him, shoving him away.

“He didn’t mean it,” Steve said, as if reading Bucky’s thoughts, “when he shoved you. He was scared and the world he built up in his head was falling apart.” The blond seemed to know a lot about TJ’s situation which would make sense if his mother worked around people like TJ; Steve would have grown up hearing all about it.

Nodding, Bucky practically whispered, “he never hit me before. This is the first time _I’ve_ been the enemy.”

Steve hesitated a moment before he placed a hand on Bucky’s and gave the brunet a small smile, “you aren’t . . . won’t ever be TJ’s enemy. He built up this . . . fantasy in his mind to help him cope and moving to a new home burst that fantasy.”

“Thing is, I never knew he even had that fantasy until today. If we hadn’t chosen to move because of Brock, maybe I’d never have known. Could it really be healthy for him to have lived like that all this time? Not grieving properly?” Bucky shook his head and unbelted himself. “I need to ask Riley.”

Nodding, Steve took his hand off of Bucky’s so he could unbuckle himself. “Might want to talk to Riley about _survivor’s guilt_ , too. Maybe that could be one of the reasons TJ made himself believe they were upstairs? So, he wouldn’t have to face the guilt he felt?”

Nodding, Bucky sighed, “yeah, I’ll do that. I keep forgetting that TJ must have a really big dose of Post Traumatic disorder.” He got out of the car and headed into the store. “Steve, mind if I take a moment to find a birthday present for TJ? I haven't really had time to break away and he turns eighteen in two weeks.”

“That’s fine by me,” Steve nodded, locking the car before turning to follow Bucky. “What are you thinking about getting him?”

Bucky shook his head. “No clue, actually. I have absolutely no idea. I was toying with the idea of a phone, but he only has me to call. He’s got a tablet already and Scott, our driver, gave him an _Etch-a-Sketch_.”

“Well, a phone wouldn’t be a bad idea. Even if it isn’t a smartphone but something he could use to get a hold of you?” Steve mused out loud.

“So far he’s been using Loki’s phone at night,” Bucky began looking around at the colorful children’s phones. “Think we could make it lock so it only dials emergency numbers or those we program in? No accidental long distance or perverts?” Bucky wasn’t even aware he’d actually started including Steve, as if the man were a long time friend instead of a practical stranger.

“Sure,” Steve nodded, smiling, as he looked at the phones with Bucky. “I think that’s a pretty common thing that parents do with their children’s phones.” The blond picked up a box from the shelf and grinned, “huh, would you look at that. This phone is actually meant for just that,” he handed it over to Bucky. The phone happened to be a bright blue.

Bucky began reading the back of the box, reaching for his own phone to automatically check out the product on safety sites. He sighed when he recalled the phone screen had been shattered. Carrying both phones to the counter, Bucky handed them over along with showing his ID. “Need another replacement, standard model, please. Also, I was wondering about this phone? Is it shatterproof, for one?”

The woman behind the counter typed in Bucky’s information and then nodded, giving the brunet a smile, “welcome back, Mr. Barnes.” She looked at the box that Bucky had brought over and nodded, “yes, that model is very sturdy. It’s built for a child. So, limited access to contacts and easy _child-proof_ settings.”

“And shatter proof, water resistant, that kind of thing? Maybe some game apps I can approve and download? It’s for Teej, my brother.” Bucky had a long relationship with this particular store and so had allowed them to notate his file with TJ’s mentally handicapped status.

“Oh,” the woman drawled and nodded, “yeah, that phone is shatterproof and water resistant. The large screen makes it easy to play games. Also, it’s pretty easy to put locks on the app store so TJ doesn’t accidentally make a purchase. You can purchase some cases for extra protection.”

Smiling, Bucky said, “and screen covers to prevent scratches? A bunch of those, please.” And for the first time since meeting Steve and watching TJ meltdown, Bucky relaxed and let himself the pleasure of anticipating TJ’s reaction to his birthday gift. He put his own phone in the woman’s hand. “Just transfer all the old settings to the new model for that one.”

“Of course, it’ll only take a minute,” she nodded, taking the phone and plugging it in so she could begin the transfer to the new model.

“Two birds with one stone,” Steve commented with a smile, watching Bucky.

Bucky laughed, “yeah, I guess so.” He tossed a smile to his new landlord. “TJ only barely got to finally dial my phone a couple weeks ago but now he’ll be able to use his own. I’ll put in Scott’s number and Loki’s and mine. And Riley’s. I think he should have better access to Riley instead of waiting to use my phone.”

“Yeah, that would make sense,” Steve nodded, happy to see that Bucky was relaxing a bit. “Hey, after this would you like to get some lunch? Then we can head back to the duplex? Or if you’d like to head back right away, that’s understandable,” he didn’t sound like Brock when the older man gave Bucky a choice, like one was the _only_ option.

“Actually,” Bucky responded well to the friendly tone, instinctively trusting this guy who’d been so understanding for TJ, “lunch would be great. TJ’ll be out for several hours on that sedative. Loki doesn’t use it often, but he uses a strong one when he needs it.”

Beaming, Steve nodded, “great! I know this diner just down the street, within walking distance. Makes some of the best pancakes or burgers, depending on what you’re in the mood for.”

“Burgers,” Bucky sighed, happily. “I’m sick of tacos and burritos and . . . breakfast foods.” He grinned. “And, I’ll even pay for pie if you like the stuff.”

Chuckling, Steve nodded, “I can do pie.”

The woman behind the counter smiled at the two of them, “your phone is all transferred, Mr. Barnes. Would you like me to charge these purchases to the card on file?”

“Please?” he asked. Bucky grinned back at Steve then turned to sign the paperwork and the receipts.

After Bucky had signed, the woman handed over Bucky’s new phone before placing TJ’s phone as well as the new case and screen protectors in a bag. “Have a great day, Mr. Barnes. Tell TJ happy birthday for me!”

“I will, Sylvia, thanks,” Bucky grinned and took the bag. He waved to her then turned and gently grabbed Steve’s left elbow without thinking, guiding him towards the exit like he would guide TJ.

Steve didn’t seem to mind, tossing a grin at the brunet. “Want to drop the bag off at the car and then go grab some lunch?”

“Sure, as long as it won’t lure some ass to rob your car,” Bucky smiled at Steve. He wasn’t aware of the ruggedly handsome dark-haired man in the parking lot watching them.

“Nah, we can put it in the trunk. Safe and sound that way,” Steve smiled as they approached his car. He unlocked the trunk and let Bucky put the bag inside before shutting it. Turning back to Bucky, the blond grinned, “ready for some grub?”

“Definitely,” he nodded. Bucky seemed far more relaxed than he had at the beginning of their meeting, letting himself enjoy the time with Steve, knowing TJ was fine and sleeping under Loki’s care.


	4. First Day in a Familiar Routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Flashbacks, Anxiety, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Stalking, Grief, Death Discussion, Anger, Reference Driving under the Influence**

Nodding, Steve started to lead Bucky towards the diner. Once there, Steve opened the door and held it, so Bucky could go in first.

With a smile for his new friend, Bucky walked into the diner and over to a table near the plate-glass window. He sank down and picked up the menu card. “This is a good place for local food, if you like homestyle, Stevie.” He flushed suddenly, “but of course you’d know that, being a local.”

Chuckling, Steve nodded and picked up the menu, bright blue eyes scanning the selections though he knew most of the choices by then. “Yeah, but, you’re right. This place definitely does great _homestyle_ cooking. The burgers are really good, too.” Lifting his eyes so that he looked at Bucky, Steve continued, “so, other than taking care of TJ. What do you like to do?”

"Do? Between TJ and work, I have really only one hobby: sleeping." Bucky shrugged. "TJ's a thirty-six hours a day kinda guy.”

Tilting his head slightly, Steve asked, “what do you mean?”

“I mean, he doesn’t run on a twenty-four hour schedule. TJ runs on TJ’s schedule. The most we can get him to sleep without nightmares is about three hours, then he needs to eat because TJ can’t handle big meals. He plays or draws or whatever for a couple hours and it’s back to napping. TJ’s got a habit of watching the clock, too, so you better be on schedule when you say you will, or he gets very upset.” Bucky ran his hand through his hair. “If I didn’t love him so much, I’d probably ring his neck.”

Steve watched Bucky for a few moments, blue eyes softening with sympathy for the brunet, “and when do _you_ get to rest?”

“Rest?” Bucky shook his head, “what is this thing you call _rest_?” With another sigh, Bucky began playing with one of the napkins, “actually, if I get my paperwork done early I can catch a nap at work. And I sleep when TJ does.”

Sighing softly, Steve nodded and looked at his menu and then back at Bucky again, “and you said you’ve been doing this for a few years?” He couldn’t imagine the stress that Bucky must go through everyday of his life.

“Ever since the accident. Actually, I had enough time to finish my training while TJ was in his coma, but it drove me nuts. I was lucky to finish top three. Looking back on it, I don’t know how I pulled that off.” Bucky shook his head. “What do you do for kicks?”

“Well,” Steve smiled softly, taking the change in subject matter in stride, “I like to go on morning runs. And I really enjoy drawing, actually.”

“So, artsy kinda guy,” Bucky grinned, nodding. “That’s really cool. I used to draw back in high school, but let it go after I graduated.”

“Oh?” Steve grinned and nodded, “drawing can be really soothing, for me, at least. Hey, if you ever have time in the morning, you’re welcome to come join me on my runs?” The blond could tell that Bucky kept pretty decent care of his body so had to fit working out somewhere in his hectic schedule.

“Runs in the mornings after work,” the brunet looked thoughtful then shook his head. “I’ll stick with running before work. Shoulda told you, I work third shift, swings.”

“No worries,” Steve smiled. He looked over at the waitress as she approached them and gave her his near angelic smile. The waitress greeted Steve by first name, so apparently the blond did come to the diner often. Steve ordered a water and a classic cheeseburger, and then the waitress turned to Bucky, her pen poised to take his order.

“How about a water, iced, and the patty melt?” Bucky asked, smiling at the woman.

The woman nodded, smiling, and then finished writing the order before turning back towards the kitchen to put in the meals and get the drinks.

Turning back towards Steve, Bucky froze in his seat, eyes widening and skin paling. He literally cringed and got the same general air a dog did when he expected to be punished for something. The brunet dropped his eyes in a submissive gesture.

Blinking, Steve turned in his seat to look in the direction where Bucky had been looking. Frowning softly, Steve leaned in closer and asked, whispering, “that him?”

“That’s Brock,” Bucky confirmed very quietly. “And he _hates_ me talking to other guys. Tells me I’m . . . sleeping around on him, which isn’t true.”

“I can ask him to leave,” Steve offered, voice firm, “he’s not supposed to be near you.”

“I don’t want him to start terrorizing you. He probably just came in for something to eat.” Bucky kept his head ducked, as if hoping Brock wouldn’t identify him sitting there with the attractive blond.

“All the way here in Brooklyn?” Steve didn’t lose his frown and he turned again but Brock was already gone. Blinking, Steve’s eyes scanned the diner to try and spot the other man. “He . . . left?”

“Well, with the restraining order on him, yeah, why wouldn’t he?” Bucky glanced up, eyes wary. “He probably came in for food, saw me, and ditched, not wanting to get in trouble. He’s already suspended at work because of me.”

“Because he abused you,” Steve said, doing another check of the building to make sure Brock had actually left. The waitress returned to serve their drinks before hurrying off to serve other customers. Looking back at Bucky, Steve asked, “are you still okay? Do you want to leave?”

Drawing a deep breath, Bucky shook his head. “No. He left, so I’m okay. It’s not like he knows where to find Teej, either.” Bucky lifted his eyes. “I’m sorry about this. I’m pretty messed up.”

“Bucky, no reason to apologize. It’s understandable that you got scared,” Steve tried to sooth his new friend.

Softly, only Steve could hear Bucky’s voice was so low, the brunet said, “yeah, he abused me . . . in the office. Might’ve caught it on security footage.”

“Well,” Steve shook his head and said, “hopefully he gets locked up so he can’t keep terrorizing you.”

“I’m on medical leave right now. Got real sick when the boss found out. But it ends in a couple of days. If your place doesn’t work out, we’re on the street. Or back in our old home, which Brock can find easily. He was my trainer . . . had access to all my files.” Bucky didn’t know why he kept revealing these sordid details to Steve; something about the blond felt comfortable, caring. It made the burden feel less to unload to Steve.

Nodding, Steve said, “well, I really hope the apartment works for you and TJ. Maybe I can look into getting a lift for TJ so he doesn’t have to walk up the stairs?”

Raising his eyes, Bucky’s lips parted slightly and he drew in a breath. “Really? You’d do that? My God, Steve, you’re a goddamned angel, is what you are!” Wiping his hand over his suddenly clouded eyes, Bucky softly said, “if the apartment works out, we won’t have to find a full house. A house is too big for the two of us, anyway.”

Smiling, Steve reached out to put his hand over Bucky’s, “I want to help you and TJ any way I can. If you think the lift might help TJ, then I’ll look into it. But maybe once he starts working on accepting what happened . . . the stairs won’t scare him so much.”

“He’d get a kick out of riding a chair up and down the steps." Bucky’s eyes shone through the mist of tears, and his smile had widened incredibly, not caring if he suddenly switched topics. "And he’d love any dog you’ve got, Steve, even one on loan. TJ loves wolves, and dogs are close enough.”

“He does?” Steve smiled, loving to learn more and more about the small family renting his upstairs apartment. “Well, when he’s feeling better, I can take him to meet my friend’s dog, Malakai? He’s the Husky mix I told you about.”

“You’d do that?” Bucky suddenly covered his eyes with his hand again, trying to hold back the flood of relief and emotions. He didn’t even look up when the waitress brought their food over, his shoulders shaking.

Steve offered the waitress a smile as she served the food. Once she left, Steve reached out to stroke his fingers over Bucky’s wrist again. “Buck? You okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky grabbed a napkin and wiped at his eyes, trying to get back under control.

“A lot has happened recently,” Steve nodded, accepting Bucky’s emotions without complaint or making Bucky feel worse. He grabbed the bottle of ketchup to squeeze some onto his plate next to his pile of fries. “Ketchup?” He offered the bottle to Bucky.

“Yeah, thanks,” Bucky reached for the bottle, hand covering Steve’s inadvertently. He snatched his hand away and murmured, “Sorry. When you’re done with it of course.”

“I was handing it to you, Buck,” Steve assured the brunet gently, still holding it out for the brunet.

“Thanks,” Bucky responded. He took the bottle and squeezed out some next to his fries then reached for mustard and put that next to the fries as well. Bucky began dipping his fries in one then the other condiment before eating. He froze as it suddenly hit him that he’d felt so much more confident before Helen had given him those pamphlets. Sure, his relationship had been abusive and he hadn’t really seen it, but it also got worse when he'd _realized_ it was abusive. Sighing, Bucky pushed his plate away, fries only a quarter done. “Think I’m still a bit sick,” he murmured softly. Bucky hated how weak he was, how afraid . . . and how _aware_ of those weaknesses and fears.

“We can get a box and you can have it later or give it to TJ?” Steve offered, not making Bucky feel bad for not finishing his food.

“Thanks,” Bucky nodded. “I’m good.” He didn’t make a move to eat, folding his hands in his lap patiently, and it became apparent he’d meant he was fine waiting for Steve to finish. Apparently, Brock had Bucky trained well; as Bucky said, Brock hadn’t finished _playing God_ when Bucky turned him in for abuse.

Steve ate a few bites and then signaled the waitress over, asking for two boxes. When she left, Steve asked, “did you want to head back? Or go somewhere else?”

Glancing around, realizing he was still very much on edge over Brock having come into the diner, Bucky sighed. “Sorry, but can we go back to your place?” He had no idea that Brock actually sat in a booth nearby and could hear that last comment.

“Yeah, we can go,” Steve nodded and thanked the waitress as she delivered the boxes. He asked her for the check before putting both sandwiches in separate boxes and then putting the fries in as well.

As Steve boxed the sandwiches, Bucky grabbed the check and pulled out his wallet.

“I can pay,” Steve offered, sealing the boxes up and putting them in the bag. “I was the one that suggested we go out for lunch?”

Bucky hesitated then nodded. “I didn’t give you dessert yet, Stevie,” he said.

Blinking, Steve shook his head, “I don’t . . . that’s not . . .” the blond flushed and took the check, slipping a few bills from his wallet and putting them in the book.

Lifting his eyes, Bucky frowned. “When you asked if I wanted lunch, I offered to buy dessert . . .”

Flushing even brighter, Steve cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, “oh, right. Yeah, the pie. I think we can skip the pie. Rain-check?”

Suddenly, Bucky snickered and broke into laughter. “You thought . . . oh, that’s good.” He continued laughing, one arm wrapped over his gut, grinning. “I guess it did sound that way, huh?”

“Um . . . yeah,” Steve chewed at his lower lip, obviously worried that he might have offended Bucky. “I’m really sorry.”

“Just so you can relax, I only ever got to eat with _him_ once. We didn’t go out in public as a couple. Ever.” Bucky stood, back to the booth behind him, unaware of its occupant. “So, no food based innuendos from me.” He chuckled again.

Steve didn’t even look behind Bucky, simply standing up and slipping out of the booth after his new friend. “Well, I . . . uh . . . I’m still sorry. That was . . . _wildly_ inappropriate.”

Shaking his head, Bucky led Steve from the diner. “Well, if I was to prostitute myself for food, how much is a quarter serving of fries worth? Not much, I’m thinking.” He shot Steve a playful grin.

Letting out a soft chuckle, Steve walked with Bucky to the car, carrying the bag of leftovers. He unlocked the car and slipped behind the wheel, turning to set the food in the back seat while Bucky got in.

“Oh!” Bucky said as he buckled himself into the seat, his voice not carrying beyond the closed car. “We forgot stuff to wrap TJ’s gift with! I’ll need to stop at a place to get something.”

“Yeah, there’s a little shop down the street. Has cards, bags, and wrapping paper, among some other things,” Steve nodded, turning the car on and then easing out of his spot. He started in the opposite direction of the duplex. It only took a few minutes before he pulled into another parking lot for a small store. After he parked the car, Steve looked at Bucky with a smile, “ready to pick out some wrapping paper?”

“Definitely,” Bucky smiled. He got out of the car and led Steve into the store, eyes widening at the nice selection. “This is great! They even have party favors, like plates and stuff!” Bucky picked up a few things, a quick and efficient shopper when it wasn’t concerning something electronic for TJ. He purchased his stuff and walked over to Steve at the door. “Thanks for catering to me today, Stevie. I think I needed the break, even if it wasn’t spent sleeping.”

“I could tell you needed some time to unwind,” Steve gave Bucky a smile and walked with him back to the car. “My days off are Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Wednesday and Friday unless they change my days now I’ve switched job locales,” Bucky sighed. “I hope they don’t. TJ’s used to Wednesday and Friday.”

“I’m sure if you discuss with your boss the reasons why you want Wednesdays and Fridays off, they’ll understand,” Steve assured his friend and slipped back into the car.

“I hope so,” Bucky nodded. “But I’ll worry about that when I report for work. Right now, I’m planning a party.” Bucky looked at Steve and smiled softly, “wanna come? It’s the thirteenth and presents are optional. A handmade card is a must. Tradition.”

Laughing, Steve nodded, “I’ll be there. If TJ hasn’t already met Malakai by then, I can bring him up?”

“You can bring Malakai up whenever you want, Steve. I promise. TJ will adore you for life.” Bucky looked delighted by the idea of TJ interacting with a dog, even one merely on temporary loan. “I don’t have the energy to get TJ a dog and take care of it, though he really wants one. Your friend’s will be the next best thing.”

Steve chuckled and said as he eased back into traffic, “well, Malakai is really good with kids, so he and TJ should get along nicely. It will be nice for him to have another friend to play with. So, Loki watches TJ while you’re gone?”

“Yeah, I was thinking it’d be nice for Teej to have a friend while I’m at work. And yeah, Loki’s TJ’s night nurse. We don’t use a day nurse because I match my schedule to his if I can. Loki’s been a real miracle, really knows how to handle TJ and treat him like an adult without making his lessons too hard.” Glancing at Steve, Bucky sighed, “it’s not everyone who’s willing to play children’s games and color with an eighteen year old man.”

“Well, at least you found someone who treats him well and was willing to relocate with you,” Steve nodded, offering his friend a smile before turning his attention back on the road.

“Actually, you probably already know that Loki’s brother lives in Brooklyn anyway, so he said he’d move in with Thor.” Bucky shook his head, glancing at the road. “I’d love to have Loki on full time, but until the settlements from the accident come through, and the inheritance is out of probate, there’s not enough funds.”

“Yeah, full time live in nurses are pricey,” Steve agreed as they pulled into the driveway of the duplex. It was as if Steve spoke from experience.

“I imagine so, since when I priced them a few years ago, they were outrageous. Now, they've gotta be _outlandish_.” Bucky stared at the side of the house.

Steve nodded, “yeah, they’re really expensive.” He turned off the car and opened his door before turning to grab the bag of leftovers.

Following Steve’s lead, Bucky unfastened his belt and got out, running his hand through his hair then beginning to frantically look for a hair band before reminding himself he wasn’t on duty. Flushing slightly, he bent over to gather his party supplies then headed back towards the trunk where the phone was stored.

Steve unlocked the trunk and handed the bag to Bucky before closing the trunk once more. He started towards the home and started walking up to the upstairs apartment so he could open the door for Bucky.

“Thanks,” Bucky smiled, his eyes showing his surprise at the gentlemanly action. Shaking his head, Bucky chuckled and said, “why hasn’t some woman snatched you up yet? You’re a real treasure.”

Flushing, Steve let out a nervous sounding chuckle and shrugged one shoulder, “haven’t found the right person, yet, I guess?” He walked over to the kitchen so he could put Bucky’s leftovers in the refrigerator.

Sighing, Bucky mentally crossed Steve off an as yet half-formed list of potential boyfriends. _Straight_ , he should’ve known.

“Well,” Steve looked around the quiet apartment, boxes still stacked in various places throughout the space, “do you want help unpacking? Until TJ wakes up?”

“Really? You take me shopping, buy me lunch, _and_ offer to unpack me? All on a work day? You said Tuesday and Thursday, right? It’s Friday, Stevie.” Bucky smiled, pushing away his disappointment.

Blinking, Steve looked down at his watch and his eyes widened, “oh shit. It _is_ Friday, isn’t it?”

Nodding Bucky said, “and here I thought maybe you took a personal day since you had people moving in.” Bucky headed out of Steve’s way to a box and began opening it. “I’m sorry I kept you. You’re not gonna get in trouble are you?”

Flushing, Steve rubbed the back of his neck, “I can call in if you need more help? I don’t mind. I have a lot of sick time . . .”

Looking over, Bucky chuckled, “you really are the perfect landlord . . . or are you tying to get a peek at my personals so you can figure out what kinky things I’m into?” Bucky froze as the words tumbled from his mouth and he flushed bright red. “I mean . . . that’s a joke. I’m not . . . not kinky . . .” Images of Brock tormenting him and threatening to do _some kinky shit_ to him popped into Bucky’s head.

Flushing as well, Steve nodded and said, “I got it. No worries. I’m really sorry that I offered to help you unpack. I didn’t even realize what time it was.”

“I don’t mind if you help me unpack - - or even offer. I’m . . . I’m just used to regretting random teasing. _He_ always saw it as an excuse to act on his whims. I’m really fucked up,” Bucky shook his head, back to Steve, hands shaking slightly.

“You’re not fucked up,” Steve insisted and then sighed, “I wish I could stay but . . .” the blond sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“You go to work. I’ll get TJ to help when he wakes up. Might ground him to be the one to decide where things go.” Bucky looked over. “And thanks again, for taking us in. We really needed this.”

“No problem at all. If you need anything at all, just call me. Loki has my number now,” Steve headed towards the door, “I mean that. Anything at all, just give me a call.”

“Thanks,” Bucky offered a smile. “See ya when you get home, right?”

“I get home pretty late, but if you’re up,” Steve nodded, “you’ll see me.” He waved goodbye to Bucky before slipping out of the apartment, letting the door shut with a soft click behind him.

**************

Several hours passed and TJ could smell the scent of sugar cookies sprinkled with chocolate flakes. The scent came from down the hall and to the room with the big bed, Bucky’s bed, in it.

Rubbing his eyes, blinking a few times to try and clear the fog that riddled his brain, TJ felt panic gripping his chest when he looked around to see an unfamiliar room. Then he suddenly remembered the move and yelling at Bucky . . . _shoving_ Bucky. Looking over at Loki, who sat in the rocker by the bed, TJ let out a small whimper. “Lucky?”

Looking up from his book, Loki smiled and said, “awake at last. That was seven hours, wolf-pup. I’m sorry we used medicine, but do you feel better? A bit less tired and grumpy?”

  
  


“I hurt Buck . . .” TJ murmured, sitting up slowly in the bed and immediately grabbing Luna and holding the stuffed animal close to his chest.

Nodding, Loki said, “yes, I’d let him know how sorry you are, Teej. Then he’ll forgive you and everything starts fresh again.”

“I - - is he mad at me?” TJ asked, a tremble lacing his tone.

“I don’t think so, but there’s one sure way to find out,” Loki met TJ’s pale eyes, “ask him. He’s in the kitchen.” Loki stood up and moved to TJ’s side, pulling the blanket back and offering his hands. “Ready to get up, darling?”

Nodding slowly, TJ reached out with trembling hands to grip at Loki’s, letting the nurse help him up. “Lucky? Can . . . can I ask you something? And you won’t get mad?”

“You can ask me anything, TJ. I would never get angry by a question.” Loki stood TJ on his feet and smiled gently.

“Will I ever be allowed to have a boyfriend? Like . . . like Bucky had? I don’t want a bad one . . . but . . .” TJ’s pale eyes fell and he chewed on his lower lip, looking worried and a little embarrassed.

“I don’t see why not, darling. If the man is willing to help you and guide you and treat you well, I don’t see why you shouldn’t have a boyfriend. He’d have to understand your special needs. But, you’d also have to understand that most men and women don’t have the energy or ambition to take on a full time care boyfriend, Teej.” Loki slipped his arm, from the left, around TJ’s waist. “But that doesn’t mean you and Bucky can’t look for friends for you that might someday, one of them, become a boyfriend.”

“What if . . . what if I think I a - - already like someone?” TJ felt his heart sink at the mention that no one would want a _full time care_ boyfriend.

“You already like someone like a boyfriend? Someone you want to touch you, even possibly on your hurt side? Someone to sleep in the same bed and eat with you and even argue with? Someone to share morning breath and spaghetti farts?” Loki smiled at TJ encouragingly.

“I - - I think so? I . . . I don’t think I’ve ever had a boyfriend before . . .” TJ didn’t lift his eyes, his fingers trembling at his sides.

Nodding, Loki soothed, “neither have I, so we’re even.” He guided TJ to the bathroom to relieve himself. “Would you like to talk with Bucky about a boyfriend? Bucky’s had one so he can help you tell if it’s a good one you like.”

TJ nodded, “and to . . . say sorry for hurting him.” He walked into the bathroom to relieve himself and washed his hands before coming back out to Loki. He let the nurse guide him out of the room and into the main living area of the apartment. After being sedated TJ was usually weaker and a bit _out of it_. Though, it was a huge accomplishment that TJ was out of his room so soon after a meltdown.

Bucky busily transferred hot cookies to a cooling tray. He glanced up and looked delighted. “Teej! You’re awake. How you feeling, baby?”

Head bowed and fingers twitching at his sides, TJ murmured, “I . . . I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry I hurt you, Buck. I . . . I . . . don’t want to hurt my Buck.”

Walking over and gently wrapping his arms around TJ, careful of TJ's right, Bucky said, “thank you for telling me that. I forgive you. I know you were scared and we spoke about really bad things.” Bucky kissed TJ’s left cheek. “I’m sorry we had to use medicine on you, Teej.”

“I . . . it’s okay,” TJ rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear the remainder of sleep from them. “I got too scared so had to go to sleep . . .” He glanced at Loki and then back at Bucky.

Nodding, Bucky said, “we wanted to calm you down, baby, and the sleep medicine works best.” Bucky backed up. “While you slept, our new friend Stevie took me to get your birthday present.”

“Birthday’s not for two more Fridays. August thirteenth, Buck. That’s my birthday, August thirteenth,” TJ said, finally lifting his head to look at Bucky.

“And I got your gift and wrapped it.” He nodded towards the present wrapped in puppy paper. “But you can’t open it until your birthday. It’s a gift for an _eighteen_ year old TJ.”

Looking at the gift, TJ slowly nodded, “okay. Eighteen year old TJ can open that gift. I’m not eighteen yet . . .” he turned his attention back to Bucky. His eyes darted to the sweet smelling cookies on the rack, “cookies smell good, Buck. Are cookies for my birthday, too?”

“No, the cookies are a new house tradition. When people move to a new home, they get to eat baked goods. And we have ice cream, too.” Bucky didn’t mention the fact that Loki had been there the night before and all day and now it was into his next shift, pretty much a _triple_.

Looking at Loki, TJ grinned, “you gonna have cookies and ice cream with us, Lucky?”

Nodding, slipping over to the table and pulling out TJ’s traditional chair, the same furniture even though they were in a new home, Loki said, “I would love cookies and ice cream, darling.”

Smile brightening, TJ nodded and slipped into the seat that Loki had pulled out. After everyone was served with their cookies and ice cream, TJ suddenly said, as if out of the blue, “Bucky, I think . . . I think I want a boyfriend.”

Bucky froze, spoon halfway to his lips. He lowered his spoon. “TJ, you have to go out among people to meet men if you want one to be your boyfriend.” He wasn’t sure how to deal with this sudden announcement.

“Not if I already know who I wanna be boyfriends with,” TJ said, nibbling at his fresh cookie.

“And this man is a good man, not like Brock? He’ll be a good boyfriend?” Bucky worried at his lip, wondering how he could tell TJ that it was far too soon to try to be boyfriends with Steve, let alone the fact that Steve might not want _TJ_.

“Uh huh,” TJ nodded, grinning at Loki and then at Bucky, “he’s nice. He knows how to take care of me, jus’ like a good boyfriend should.”

“And,” Bucky cleared his throat, “you need to tell him and let him say yes or no, TJ. And not get upset if he doesn’t want a boyfriend. Right?”

Loki smiled at TJ encouragingly.

TJ looked at Bucky and then at Loki before turning his attention back to his brother, “can Lucky be my boyfriend?”

“Lucky?” Bucky looked stunned. “I . . . I thought you wanted _Stevie_?”

Covering his mouth, eyes dancing, not seeming offended in the least, Loki hid his soft laughter.

“Why would I want _Stevie_ as my boyfriend? I jus’ met him today. That’s too soon, Buck. No, I want Lucky as a boyfriend.” TJ watched Bucky, taking in his brother’s surprise.

“But, Lucky’s your _nurse_ , TJ.” Bucky shook his head, worried for a whole new reason. “Nurses aren’t allowed to be boyfriends with their patients.”

“Oh . . .” TJ’s eyes dropped and he nodded, “okay . . .” he picked up the cookie again to begin nibbling at it.

Loki cleared his throat and said, “that’s not exactly true. It’s not _illegal_ to date or even marry your nurse, but people do think it odd when it happens. Often they think the nurse is using the patient for wealth, to get into a will or something.” Reaching over to touch TJ’s left hand, Loki said, “but since I have more money than you, I doubt people will think I’m trying to steal what you don’t even have. Will they, darling?”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open then snapped shut. He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t toy with him, Loki. You _know_ he won’t understand those kinds of games.”

Lifting surprised eyes, Loki said, “what games? Once he’s eighteen, he’s legal to date whomever he chooses. I can wait easily for him if he wants me. I have grown rather attached to TJ, Bucky, and am quite willing to see if this can blossom into something deeper.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Bucky frowned, ignoring his melting ice cream.

Loki smiled to TJ, “then I will recommend another nurse if he wants one.”

Blinking, looking between Bucky and Loki, TJ slowly smiled and exclaimed, “you wanna be my boyfriend?”

“Yes, darling, I would like to be your boyfriend. And I will help you understand how to treat a boyfriend, so you know how we should treat each other. We start by being pleasant and asking after each other’s health and day. So, TJ, I know you had a terrible morning and slept the rest of the day, but how do you really feel now? You can tell me.” Loki scooted his chair a little closer, intently watching the younger man.

Grinning brightly, the meltdown from earlier seeming a hundred years away, TJ said, “I’m happy ‘cause I have the _best_ boyfriend ever! How . . . how are you, Lucky?”

Loki nodded in encouragement. “Well, I worked all night last night and all today to care for my patient, so I am utterly exhausted, but I feel happy because I just got a new boyfriend to love.”

“Do you want a nap? A nap helps me when I’m tired. They make me so I’m not tired anymore,” TJ offered.

“Well, perhaps, if Bucky is willing, I can take a nap when you nap later on? Or . . .”

“Take a nap right now, Loki. You can use TJ’s room. I’ll be up some time and can handle TJ, right Teej?” Bucky looked from his brother to the nurse and back, eyes worried. He knew it was unconventional, but he’d known Loki for over four years and the man had always been patient and understanding with TJ. Bucky _trusted_ the nurse with TJ.

“Uh huh,” TJ nodded, smiling at Loki, “you can take a nap. It’s not medicine time or anything like that. I’ll be okay.”

Thinking for a long moment, Loki finally nodded. “Very well, if you both agree, so shall I. Wake me when you need me, please. I’ll just be down the hall.” Loki stood up and leaned slowly over TJ so he could move if he wanted. Loki kissed TJ's forehead, on the left side. “Good night, for a few hours, boyfriend.” He turned and strode down the hall, hiding a yawn behind his hand.

Grinning, TJ looked back at Bucky, “he called me _boyfriend_ , Buck!”

“Well,” Bucky blinked slowly and picked up his spoon, still trying to wrap his head around the sudden changes, “he did agree to be your boyfriend when you asked, TJ.” He began scooping up and pouring his melted ice cream into the bowl, over and over.

Blinking, TJ tilted his head and asked, “you . . . you don’t want Lucky to be my boyfriend?”

“I like Lucky and know he’ll take good care of you, Teej. I’m . . . I’m just worried is all. Being boyfriends is a lot of work.” He looked at TJ. “And being a nurse is a lot of work. I’m not sure Lucky can do both at the same time.”

“Oh . . .” TJ drawled and lowered his eyes, picking up his cookie to nibble at, “I’m being bad? Asking him to be . . . be my boyfriend was bad?”

Shaking his head, dropping the spoon and moving to gently hug his brother, Bucky said, “I would have told you if you were being bad, Teej! You are _not_ bad. I’m just worrying about everything like usual is all.” Bucky lifted TJ’s chin. “As long as both of you want to be boyfriends and neither of you hurts the other, then this is _good_ , okay?”

“Good . . . good,” TJ nodded slowly and met Bucky’s eyes, “Buck?”

Sighing and meeting TJ’s eyes in return, Bucky softly asked, “yeah, baby?”

“So . . . they . . . they aren’t upstairs?” TJ asked quietly, pale eyes searching Bucky’s face.

“No, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I wish they were. With my whole heart.” Bucky hugged TJ again, kissing his left temple.

“Buck, if I did somethin’ _real_ bad . . . would you still love me?” TJ asked, worrying at his bottom lip.

Cupping TJ’s face and meeting his eyes, Bucky said, “I would never stop loving you. But, TJ, you did _not_ kill our family. A man who was drunk did that. You were a victim who nearly died, too. And I love you so much.”

Shaking his head, TJ said, “I - - I ‘member, Bucky. I remember. I - - It was my fault . . .”

Frowning softly, but kissing TJ’s temple, Bucky said, “okay, tell me what you remember, TJ. I’ll tell you if it was your fault, okay?” And Bucky sat on the chair Loki had vacated instead of his own cushioned chair further away from TJ.

Looking nervous and like he tried to keep a hold of the memory before it disappeared, TJ said, “we . . . we were home, Buck. We were home and safe. I . . . I think I was playing with Becca. I . . . I wanted ice cream, then I told Becca, then _she_ wanted ice cream. We . . . we kept . . . bugging Momma and Dad until they took us.” TJ’s eyes dropped to his hands in his lap, “we . . . we got ice cream? I think . . . I think we were coming home? Then the car hit and rolled over and over again . . .” TJ didn’t lift his head, waiting for his brother to yell and get mad . . . to get mad that _TJ_ had killed their family.

“I see, so, you both wanted to eat ice cream and our parents took you out to get some, like hundreds of times before. Only this time, some asshole was driving drunk and hit you guys, which made the car roll over a lot and you were the only one to live.” Bucky stroked TJ’s curls away from his forehead. “TJ, did what I just say make sense? Just because you wanted ice cream doesn’t mean you killed them. There was plenty of times you wanted ice cream and got it and they lived. You didn’t _want_ them dead, either. The only thing different that night was the drunk driver. So, _he_ killed them. Not you.”

“But . . . but had we not gone . . . they wouldn’t have been in the car,” TJ whimpered softly.

“But if the drunk driver decided not to leave the bar at that time. If the guy decided not to drink. Or not to get in a two ton machine,” Bucky argued back. “You see, TJ. You and our family made a regular, normal, everyday decision. Something that shouldn’t have been dangerous. The man who drove drunk made the dangerous, bad decision. So _he_ was the killer, not you.”

Rubbing at his eye with a shaky hand, TJ said, softly, “but, he died.”

“Yeah, he did. And I’ll tell you a real big secret, baby.” Bucky met TJ’s eyes, frowning, “if that bastard hadn’t died, I don’t care if I _am_ a cop. I’d have killed him for what he did to you and our family. No one should mix drugs or drinking and heavy machinery. That’s illegal and immoral.”

“Killing’s bad, Buck,” TJ said.

Touching foreheads with TJ, Bucky whispered, “I know it is. So, I’m glad I didn’t do it. But I can’t help but be happy he’s no longer out there driving around killing people.”

“You think Momma, Dad, and Becca are happy in heaven? With Nana and Pops?” TJ asked quietly.

“I think those three are vacationing in heaven and then coming around moving our stuff, so we think we lost it then find it a few days later. I think Becca’s playing with us all the time and making us think we’re just goofy about putting our stuff in weird places.” Bucky grinned, nuzzling at TJ’s left temple. “That’s what I think.”

“I . . . I miss them,” TJ said softly.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed. “Me too. I miss them every day.” He gently hugged TJ. “Thank you for not dying, too. Thank you for staying with me, TJ.”

Blinking in surprise, TJ wrapped his arms around Bucky and nuzzled at his brother’s neck, “I come back to you?”

“You were in a coma for three months, TJ. I thought you’d die. You just wouldn’t wake up.” Bucky stroked TJ’s curls. “And then you did wake up. You woke up. You came back to me. So I didn’t lose everyone. I still have you.” Bucky hugged TJ again, careful as always.

TJ lifted his right hand to brush his fingers over his scarred temple, the bumpy ridges he could feel going back into his hair. Looking at Bucky, still touching his scars, something he _never_ did, TJ asked, “because of this?”

“That scar, sweetheart, is the symbol that you lived, even with the head injury.” Bucky very carefully traced the scar. “This, to me, is a badge of life and love. It reminds me everyday that I still have you, that I have so much to be thankful for.”

Smiling, TJ dropped his hand and leaned forward to wrap his arms around Bucky again, hugging his brother tightly, “I love you, Buck.”

“And I love you so much, TJ.” Bucky hugged back, careful, but something about his tone of voice was like the tightest, lovingest hug he ever gave his brother.

**************

Straightening his tie, Bucky stepped into the busy main office of his new precinct. Glancing around, the lanky brunet spotted the offices along the back wall and headed in that direction. He came to one marked _’Lieutenant Hill,’_ and knocked.

A woman’s voice, stern and firm, much like Bucky’s old Captain, called out, “come in!”

Opening the door, Bucky didn’t hang back. Instead, he walked into the office, shutting the door softly behind him. “Ma’am, I’m James Barnes. I’m transferring from Manhattan.”

Standing up, moving around her large desk, the woman, tall and fit with short brown hair, met Bucky’s eyes. “Sergeant Barnes. From Captain Fury’s unit. I trust you’re feeling better?” She offered a hand.

Taking her hand in a firm handshake, Bucky said, “a little, ma’am. Some home issues with the move, but I’ve got things starting to fall back in place there. A bit exhausted, but itching to work. I’m not very good at _not_ doing something,” he chuckled softly, liking her straight-forward manner.

“Have a seat, please, James,” Hill gestured to one of two chairs in front of her desk as she walked back to her own chair. She sat down and sifted through a few files before pulling one out and looking through it.

Nodding, Bucky sank to the chair closest to him and lifted his face, meeting her eyes directly. He apparently wasn’t cowed like some in his position may have been.

“In your record it says you have a dispute with your ex-partner, an investigation is being done for accusations of unwanted sexual contact,” Hill read off the page and then looked back at Bucky.

Nodding, Bucky sighed but his eyes didn’t waver. “Yes, ma’am. I got into a domestic-like relationship with him when he first began training me and it became a domestic abuse situation. I didn’t identify the problem until recently, but it’s been going on for some time. I was keeping it hidden because he said I’d lose my job if someone found out we were lovers.” It wasn’t easy to talk about, but Bucky wanted to start honest and fresh in this new precinct.

Hill nodded, looking back down at Bucky’s file. She flipped a page, “you and your ex-partner have an excellent closing rate. That’s good,” she commented and then flipped another page, “here it says you have sole custody of a younger brother?” Her eyes lifted once more, giving Bucky the respect of looking at him while he answered her questions.

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky sat forward. “TJ’s got the mental capacity of a permanent teenager with childlike symptoms, as well. He was in a severe car accident. My entire family was. TJ was the only survivor.” Bucky lifted a hand, “but I’d like to try to work with his schedule if I can. He’s got a night nurse at the moment. I’d kill me to put him in a home . . . and it’d kill Teej.”

Maria nodded, pulling out a pen, asking, “so, you’re okay with working nights.”

“Ma’am? Ever seen the movie _’Rainman’_? Teej is like that without the ability to care for himself mixed in. He’s used to a night shift for me. So, I’d prefer one if I can?”

“I trust you know that overtime might be required given specific circumstances?” Maria asked, jotting notes down as she talked.

Nodding, Bucky looked relieved. If they were speaking about overtime already, Maria Hill mustn’t be disappointed in the mess of an officer she’d inherited. “Yes, ma’am. In those cases, as soon as I find out, I call him so he can adjust his mental schedule.”

“Any other special requirements that you need to be able to care for him?” Maria questioned, not sounding upset or put-out by having to work around Bucky’s special requirements.

“If I can, could I take Wednesdays and Fridays as my weekend? I’ll sign papers claiming no weekend pay for Saturday and Sunday in exchange. His appointments are those two days and he has trouble leaving the house.” Bucky looked hopeful but sounded business-like.

“Wednesdays and Fridays. Well, I think we can make that work since most people like to have weekends off,” Maria finished writing her notes and met Bucky’s eyes once more. She offered Bucky a small smile, “I admire you for caring for your brother. Shows your true character.”

Drawing a relieved breath and returning the smile, Bucky said, “I love TJ. No amount of work is too much. He’s worth it. I just gotta reorganize my life to his which can be the hard part. Thank you for being so accommodating, Ma’am.”

Maria nodded again and said, “well, I think you’re going to fit in here.”

“Ma’am, I don’t know if it’s in your papers, but I’ve got a restraining order on Brock Rumlow. He was my former partner.” Bucky met her eyes once more. “I’m sure that’s going to be complicated if we have cross-jurisdiction cases.”

Flipping through a few more of the papers in Bucky’s file, Hill nodded and said, “yes, I see it now. We will make accommodations. If there is ever a time we need to work with the Manhattan unit, I will make sure Brock Rumlow isn’t to work with you and your partner.” Standing up, Hill gestured for Bucky to follow her.

Bucky rose to his feet, careful not to scrape his chair on the office linoleum floor.

“Your new partner, Natasha Romanov, has been in this unit for a little over four years,” Maria stated as she opened the door and lead Bucky out of the office. She headed towards a set of desks, a petite red-haired woman sitting at one, working on paperwork. “Romanov,” Maria called, “come meet your new partner.”

Natasha looked up, her emerald eyes piercing, calculating Bucky’s every move. She stood up and approached the oncoming pair.

Bucky stepped forward and offered his hand and a smile, “James Barnes, ma’am.”

“Natasha Romanov,” she shook Bucky’s hand and then let it drop, “you’re from Fury's Manhattan unit, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky nodded. “And, so we’re clear and open up front, I have a full-care brother at home and might need to call him throughout the shift to keep him calm, especially if it’s an overtime situation. Also,” he glanced towards Maria Hill then back at Natasha, “I’m in a domestic violence investigation and there’s a restraining order on my former partner.” He didn’t clarify that the word _partner_ meant both work and life partner.

“Well, you give me a description and I’ll make sure to help you keep an eye out for the guy,” Natasha said.

Nodding, Bucky said, “Officer Brock Rumlow, ma’am. Of Manhattan.”

The news that the abusive partner was also Bucky’s ex-partner didn’t seem to phase the smaller woman. She nodded and said, “well, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you. And, I have no problems with you making calls to your brother.”

Relief swept over Bucky and his pale blue eyes lit up, making him look less tired, less drawn out and sick. “Thank you. If things work out, I take Wednesday and Friday, but work weekends. And, once I’m familiar with your procedures, I can work alone so you don’t have to change your own schedule. Keeps our cases still going without a break or extra time, I’m thinking?”

Nodding, Natasha opened her mouth to reply but looked over as Maria’s phone rang. The Lieutenant answered the device and said only a few words to the person on the other end before hanging up and looking at Bucky and Natasha, “time to get acquainted. You two have a case. Robbery and homicide at a pawn shop. Owner was DOA.”

“Ma’am,” Bucky offered, “Manhattan has a string of similar crimes right now. Possibly a change of jurisdictions by the perp. Might be something to check once we’ve done our initial investigations. Each of those has missing objects from the victim.”

Nodding, Maria said, “fill in Romanov on the way. Check for any stolen items.”

Bucky looked to Natasha and offered another smile. “I go by Bucky. What should I call you, ma’am?”

“Not _ma’am_ ,” she quipped with a smile, grabbing her coat and then turning to lead Bucky out of the precinct, “just call me Natasha.” She headed directly for a black cruiser, unlocking the driver’s door and then hitting the button that unlocked the passenger door as well.

Bucky let himself in and immediately fastened the belt. He began telling Natasha about the cases he and Brock had been looking into recently, surprised that he felt a bit more relaxed when his new partner didn’t act like a dead victim was a birthday present.

The entire ride to the crime scene Natasha listened to what Bucky had to say, asking questions but never cutting him off or rudely interrupting. She treated him as her equal. Once there, she quickly slipped out of the vehicle.

“Natasha?” Bucky called before she could move away from the door or close it. He unbuckled himself.

Ducking down to look into the car, Natasha asked, “yeah?”

He met her eyes, his demeanor very nervous as the enormity of the changes and recent past started hitting him. “I haven’t been diagnosed, but I might have post traumatic stress. I’ll work my best, and I promise to let you know if it’s too much . . . but thanks. For treating me as a human.”

Giving her new partner a small smile and a nod, Natasha said, “well, you deserve it, since you _are_ human.”

Smiling again, Bucky slid from the car, the expression falling away to a more professional neutral look. He pulled out his notebook and pen and walked up to the beat cops to start getting the information they needed before checking on the body. So used to Brock wanting to do the body part of their investigation, Bucky made no move to approach it.

After several minutes, Natasha letting Bucky do what he was comfortable with, the woman called, “Bucky!”

Immediately, Bucky whirled around and trotted over. “Natasha, yes.”

She crouched down near the body, a middle aged man with a gunshot wound to his chest. “This follows the M.O. of the other robberies, right?”

Nodding, Bucky crouched down, hesitated briefly then slid a pair of gloves on. He reached out and began looking over the body without disturbing it too much. As time went on without a correction from Natasha, Bucky seemed to gain confidence. “Watch is gone. This place is right near the bridge to Manhattan.” He looked up suddenly and around, dreading seeing Brock possibly on the case, as well.

“Yeah, but our jurisdiction. Manhattan won’t touch it unless we ask them to,” Natasha stated, as if reading Bucky’s mind.

“Who was the first responder?” Bucky looked over at the beat cops. “Should ask what he or she noticed since no one had touched this guy then.”

Nodding, Natasha stood up and walked over to the police officer who’d called it in, “you called in the DOA. Was there an alarm that went off? Or was it a tip?”

The cop shook his head, “straight out robbery and things were seeming to be smooth. The clerk gave the perp all the cash and cooperated fully. The perp, according to the witness in the parking lot who could see through the front window, suddenly looked angry and shot the clerk, He seemed to fiddle with the dying clerk, but didn’t take anything from his pockets, then ran off,” the cop gestured away from Manhattan, “that direction.”

“On foot? Or was there a getaway car?” Natasha asked.

“Witness didn’t see or hear any vehicle, said the perp was on foot until out of sight down the street.” The cop shook his head. “Bizarre. Looks like the perp shot the clerk out of anger but not for lack of cooperation. We’re thinking it’s a possible domestic?”

“Think the victim knew the perp?” Natasha nodded, jotting things down in a notepad she’d pulled out.

Nodding, the cop said, “that’s my theory, Romanov. Most perps take the money and run, only fight back if there’s a reason to. I’ve never heard of one getting things his way then shooting anyway but running past a witness in the parking lot and not even threatening the witness.”

Frowning softly, Natasha nodded and finished with the beat cop before returning to Bucky. “Victim cooperated with the perp, but the perp shot him anyway. No getaway car, ran off on foot. Right past a witness.”

Sighing, Bucky shook his head, “similar but differences to the Manhattan run, Natasha. Shoot a cooperative clerk and leave alone a witness? We might need a safety put on the witness until we figure out if the perp even saw him there.” The lean brunet began scanning the area, trying to _see_ how the perp would have gone. The area was a very busy area with a lot of close buildings. The perp could have disappeared into any of them within a ten block radius before a cop showed up. “Maybe lives around here or has a friend or family member local?” Turning back to his new partner, Bucky said, “a knock and talk? Cold visits?”

“Yeah,” Natasha nodded, slipping her notebook back into her pocket. She looked around the surrounding area and sighed, “might need to call that brother of yours. This is gonna take awhile, even with the help of the others.”

A wide smile crossed Bucky’s face and his eyes lit up with relief. “Thanks, Natasha. Just be a moment.” He took off his gloves and pulled out his phone to dial Loki’s phone. “Loki? Hey, can I talk to Teej real quick?”

When Loki handed the phone over, Bucky said, “Teej? My new work partner is a girl. She’s very nice. How’s tonight going?”

“Good,” TJ answered, sounding a bit distracted, “Lucky put on a movie, Buck. We’re watching it.”

“I’ll be quick then, baby,” Bucky said, reassuringly. “I have a knock and talk right now, okay? Might be late. I’ll call when I’m sure.”

“Not late for another five hours, Buck,” TJ assured his brother.

“Okay, you’re right,” Bucky chuckled. “So, I’ll call you in three hours? Check in again?” Bucky set his phone quickly while listening to TJ on speaker phone.

“Three hours?” TJ sounded happy, “I get to talk with Buck in three hours?”

“Yes, Teej. You do. Say _‘Hi, Natasha’_ ,” Bucky instructed.

“Hi, Natasha,” TJ obeyed readily enough, “who’s Natasha?”

Bucky offered his new partner a smile. “My new partner.”

Natasha laughed softly and leaned in a bit closer to reply, “hello, Teej, was it? Or is it TJ?”

“Buck calls me Teej,” TJ answered, not seeming to realize he was talking with a stranger, something that would normally cause him a lot of anxiety.

“Okay, baby, gotta go catch a bad guy. Talk to you in three hours. I set my alarm,” Bucky said.

“Three hours. Talk to Buck in three hours,” TJ agreed, “bye, Bucky. Love you.”

“Bye, Teej. I love you more.” Bucky hung up and seemed to feel a wall of tension leave him as Natasha had been so understanding. “He’ll be eighteen on the thirteenth of August.” Bucky slipped his phone away and took out his notebook and pen once more.

As they headed towards the first building they’d be knocking on, Natasha asked, “what happened to him? Or is it a genetic thing?” She sounded curious as she looked over at Bucky.

“My family was in a car accident a few years back. TJ’s the only survivor. He was top of his class and a piano protege before the accident. Now,” Bucky shrugged. “I won’t put him in a home.” Bucky shot Natasha an intense look, so used to arguing with Brock over TJ.

“Of course not. You’re completely able to care for him. He’s family,” Natasha nodded.

Relief pulled another smile from Bucky and he nodded. “He’s _my_ family. I love him.”

“My boyfriend is a cop in the Manhattan unit, specializes in children and the mentally handicapped,” Natasha commented easily.

Stiffening, Bucky dropped his voice to a near scared whisper, “who? Who is he?”

Blinking, Natasha looked up at Bucky and answered, “Clint Barton?”

Nodding, Bucky deliberately rotated his shoulders and neck. “Barton’s a good guy. I like Barton.” His tone sounded relieved. He really hadn’t realized just how down trodden he’d been with Brock.

“You’ve met him?” Natasha smiled and nodded, agreeing with Bucky’s assessment of her boyfriend.

Nodding, Bucky said, “yeah, worked with him a couple of times. Always finding kid victims and witnesses.” Bucky sighed and shook his head. “Sometimes I think people suck, then I look at TJ and realize that most people are nice guys, you know? That’s why I do this job - - to help the nice guys.”


	5. A Very Good Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Anxiety, Pain, Grief, Some Post Traumatic**

Bucky had called TJ to let him know he’d be about three hours late, but wound up an hour earlier than he’d predicted. He walked up to the apartment door, knocked, then unlocked it. Calling out softly, as an added warning to his brother, the brunet cop said, “baby? Bucky’s home early!” He’d actually offered Natasha to bring her to his place to meet TJ real quick if she wanted, trying to judge her reaction.

“Bucky!” TJ called from the kitchen, running over to his brother to hug him tightly, “had a nightmare, Buck. Lucky’s making chocolate milk to chase the nightmares away.”

Bucky hugged his little brother, breathing in TJ’s scent. “Hey, baby. Glad to be home. Want you to meet my new partner. You want to meet Natasha? She’s a real nice person.”

“Not like your mean boyfriend?” TJ pulled away, tilting his head when he saw the petite redhead standing in the doorway.

“Nothing like him. I’d never want you to have to meet Brock again,” Bucky reassured his brother. “Natasha has a boyfriend named Clint. You remember Clint from when you woke in the hospital?”

“Clint came to ask ‘bout your bad boyfriend, too,” TJ reminded his older brother.

Nodding, Bucky agreed, “yeah.” His voice had gone softer. “He did.”

Natasha took that moment to step closer and offer TJ a wave, having been warned by Bucky not to touch TJ or even offer a hand to shake. “Hello, TJ. We spoke over the phone.” She gestured to the younger man’s shirt, a black one with a beautifully designed white wolf, “I like your shirt. Wolves are very pretty animals, aren’t they?”

Bucky laughed and, teasing TJ, said, “uh oh! Uh oh! Now he’s gonna never shut up!” He winked at Natasha, “TJ knows everything about wolves.”

“I do!” TJ nodded enthusiastically, actually grabbing Natasha’s hand and tugging her toward his room where he had all his wolf items.

Bucky’s eyes went wide and he looked delighted at the gesture, looking intently at Natasha, trying to transmit the idea of how significant that touch was. When the threesome, Bucky following the others, got to TJ’s bedroom, Loki was just making the bed. He looked up and smiled, looking pale and tired.

“Lucky! Natasha likes wolves, too!” TJ reported with a wide grin, walking over, having dropped Natasha’s hand as he headed over to grab his much loved stuffed wolf, Luna.

Straightening, Loki offered a smile and a hand to the pretty redhead. “Natasha, a delight to meet Bucky’s partner. He doesn’t bring people home unless he believes in them. You’re the first work friend he’s brought home.” Loki had an intense look.

Natasha shook Loki’s hand, and offered him a nod.

“My name is Loki,” the nurse told her.

“Natasha Romanov,” she replied and then looked over as TJ thrust Luna at her.

“Bucky got this for me when I was sleeping in the hospital,” TJ replied, grinning happily.

“He had a three month coma,” Bucky clarified, but did not mention the actual accident. “I thought he needed a protector to guard his sleep.”

Carefully taking the stuffed animal from TJ, Natasha looked over the animal, being very gentle. “Well, he seems like a very strong wolf, TJ. You’re so lucky to have such a great friend.” She handed the animal back to its owner.

Loki smiled at the woman than asked, “TJ? Did you get the milk and chocolate out and put them on the table for me to make your dream milk?”

“Not uh, ‘cause Bucky came home early!” TJ took the wolf back and set it back on the bed carefully.

“Well, bring Luna if you want, but keep him away from the milk. Let’s go to the kitchen.” Loki offered a smile to TJ. “Natasha, do you wish for some chocolate milk? It helps chase the nightmares that get past the wolves.” He led the group from the bedroom.

Shaking her head, Natasha said, “I actually have to get going. But it was very nice meeting you, Loki. And you, TJ,” she offered a smile to the young man.

Bucky gestured toward the door, smiling. “Thanks for coming up, Natasha.”

“Buck! She can come to my birthday party, huh?” TJ asked.

Laughing, Bucky nodded, “only if you, the birthday boy, invite her. Tell her what birthday it is.” Bucky had already told Natasha, but he wanted to encourage TJ’s interaction.

“I’m gonna be _eighteen_. Bucky’s already got my present!” TJ pointed to the gift wrapped in the wolf paper on the table. “He says it’s for eighteen year old TJ.”

Natasha grinned and nodded, “I’ll be here, TJ. Eighteen is a very important birthday, after all.”

Beaming brightly, TJ hugged her quickly, saying, “thank you!” He then turned to hurry into the kitchen to help Loki with the chocolate milk.

In the opened doorway, Natasha turned to look at Bucky, “he’s a good kid, Bucky. You’ve done good.”

Nodding, Bucky smiled back, eyes misting, “thanks. I get frustrated, who doesn’t, but he’s worth it. And . . . his touching you? Hugging you? Natasha, that’s major for TJ. I never . . . I never trusted _him_ with my baby brother, you know, even though TJ was always curious.”

“Well, I’m happy that you trust me enough,” Natasha answered with a smile.

“Thanks for treating me like a human,” Bucky shrugged, knowing he’d already told her that at the beginning of the shift. “See you tonight, Natasha. We’ll catch this guy.”

Nodding once, Natasha waved goodbye and then turned to head out of the upstairs apartment and down the stairs.

“Buck! Want chocolate milk?” TJ called after his brother.

Closing the door and securing it, Bucky turned, “I would adore chocolate milk, baby! Let me tell you about my night?” He’d leave out the bad details and make the knock and talk sound funny. Bucky headed into the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, Bucky said, “hey, Loki. you’re shift’s over now. You need to relax. Go home, get some sleep.”

Loki smiled and nodded. “Thank you. TJ, I’ll be back tonight, won’t I?”

“Tonight. Nine thirty,” TJ confirmed with a nod, sipping at his chocolate milk.

“Exactly,” Loki smiled and stepped closer. He leaned in and kissed TJ’s cheek. “Good morning, boyfriend,” he purred softly, but still kept the touch platonic. “Good morning, Bucky.” The night nurse offered another smile then let himself from the apartment.

“See that?” TJ beamed brightly, touching his cheek where Loki had kissed him.

Nodding, Bucky said, “he’s being a good boyfriend, isn’t he, Teej?” The cop was very thankful that Loki kept the relationship platonic, not upping it more than what it pretty much had been before, aside from the gentle kisses.

“He’s the best boyfriend!” TJ exclaimed, carefully pushing the other glass towards Bucky.

Smiling widely, Bucky took his glass and began drinking, allowing the milk to stain his lip, knowing it would get a reaction from TJ. “I was thinking we could do a shower today, TJ? You know, pull out the shower crayons and draw all over the shower?”

Giggling, TJ pointed to the milk-mustache, “you look silly, Bucky!”

“Silly Bucky?” Bucky asked, tilting his head.

“Yeah! You got milk on your face!” TJ giggled and then the offer that Bucky has said seemed to fully hit TJ. “The shower crayons? Really? You mean it?”

“Yup,” Bucky grabbed a napkin to wipe away the milk on his lip. “Don’t rush the milk or you’ll hurt your tummy, but once we’re done the milk, we can go shower and draw, okay?” Bucky knew that TJ bathed regularly; this was a treat like offering to play games, not a hygienic offer.

Grinning, TJ sipped at his milk, not rushing it like Bucky had said. After a few minutes, he finished his glass and as soon as he put the glass down, he asked, “can we go draw now? Please, Buck?” TJ seemed to be vibrating in excitement.

Bucky finished off his own milk and nodded. He stood and rinsed out both glasses in the sink then put them in the dishwasher. He liked the addition to their home . . . a dishwasher. “Right, now. TJ has to find his after-clothes and the shower crayons, okay? I’ll get my own clothes and the towels.”

“Okay!” TJ beamed and hurried off into his room to grab some fresh clothes, not even really looking at what he’d grabbed. The thin brunet went into the rather large bathroom and opened a drawer with his name on it, pulling out the special crayons that would be able to write on the shower wall.

As TJ got ready, Bucky headed into his room and stripped, carefully securing his gun and work things in a locking drawer with his name on it. He’d come up with the name tags back in the old home to help TJ know what _not_ to get into. They’d carried over the tradition to make TJ feel more at home in the new place. Bucky grabbed his clothes, slipping into his robe, and headed for the main bathroom. “Ready, baby? Gotta undress. Need help with your zipper and buttons?”

“No, I think I got it,” TJ assured his brother, carefully undressing. He struggled for only a moment with his zipper before he was able to unfasten his clothing on his own.

Bucky waited to see if TJ asked for help then beamed proudly when TJ managed on his own. “Wow, you’re getting so much better at that! Next we’ll have to work on sneakers with ties so you can practice that, too.” Moving over to turn on the shower and test the water, Bucky said, “hey, TJ, I saw a _Mickey Mouse_ with buttons and a zipper and shoe ties. Want me to get you one so you can practice on it?” He figured the toddler toy would be less frustrating to TJ then a pair of shoes.

Grinning, TJ finally slipped out of his underwear. He grabbed the crayons on the counter and answered, “yeah! I wanna practice, Buck. Then I can wear shoes like you.”

Looking at TJ thoughtfully, Bucky asked, carefully, smiling and sounding like it was a happy, unimportant question, “did you want to someday go to the toy store and see what other things, like games and stuff, they have that you might want?”

“Toy store? Will they have more Lunas there? I think Luna needs a friend,” TJ answered, not seeming nervous about the idea of going to a public store.

“Definitely,” Bucky promised, knowing stuffed wolves were a mainstay in toy stores. “And games and learning toys and even computer stuff. They’ve got books and crayons and stuff for little tiny babies that are so tiny, you’d think no one could use it!”

Eyes lighting up, TJ asked, “can we go, Buck? I wanna go!”

Nodding, Bucky plucked a green crayon from TJ’s plastic bucket. “Okay, if after your appointment on Wednesday you still wanna go, we can. Okay? We’ll see if it’s a good day or a milk day?” Bucky began drawing a tree.

“Okay! Can we get strawberry ice cream, too?” TJ asked, pulling out a blue crayon and starting to draw as well, his hands very steady. It seemed like the new mix of meds that Dr. Cho had prescribed worked very well.

“If your tummy is up to it, yes. We can do as much as you feel able to. Remember, baby? You don't’ have to push yourself except to make appointments. We take it one day at a time, right? Everyone can have milk days.” Bucky waited a moment until TJ pulled his hand away from the wall a bit then stole his brother’s crayon.

Giggling, TJ let the crayon go without complaint, he pulled out a yellow crayon and continued his drawing.

Pausing, watching, Bucky grinned and stole the yellow crayon, too, waiting to see TJ’s reaction.

Blinking TJ looked at Bucky and then giggled again after seeing Bucky’s wide, teasing grin, “you keep stealing all my crayons, Bucky!”

“Yup,” Bucky laughed and reached into the bucket for the purple, red, and orange, too. He left the brown crayon, only. Turning to the wall, Bucky held the crayons in both hands in a flat line then drew a rainbow. Grinning at TJ, he offered all the crayons. “The easy way!”

Gasping in delight, TJ made grabbing gestures with both his hands.

“Wanna learn?” Bucky offered, taking the bucket with the brown crayon and offering all the others again. Making sure TJ had all six crayons, Bucky instructed him, “remember how paints make different colors? What’s red and yellow?”

“Orange, Buck! I remember that!” TJ beamed, trying to hold all the crayons in both hands but struggling.

Nodding, Bucky flattened TJ’s palm then put the red crayon then the yellow crayon on TJ’s hand. He added the orange between them. “And yellow with blue?”

“Green? Is it green, Buck?” TJ asked, looking up at Bucky.

“Good boy!” Bucky praised, “it _is_ green.” He put the blue crayon near the yellow then the green between them. “And what’s left over?” Bucky held up the purple crayon.

“Purple!” TJ exclaimed with a wide grin.

Nodding, Bucky put the purple crayon on the other side of the blue. “Now, put your other hand on top so none of them roll, baby,” he instructed.

  
  


Biting his bottom lip in concentration, TJ carefully put his other hand on top and held all the crayons steady.

“Good! Now, turn your hands to the side and draw on the wall,” Bucky gestured to a clear spot.

Doing as he was told, TJ put the crayons to the wall and drew a rainbow, both hands staying steady. After he was done, TJ beamed brightly at his older brother, “look! I did it!”

Laughing, Bucky nodded, “beautiful! And what’s that called, Teej? You remember?”

“It’s a . . . a rainbow?” TJ looked at his brother for confirmation.

“Yes!” Bucky hugged TJ. “So clever! I’ve got the cleverest TJ in the world!”

“Yeah! I’m the cleverest!” TJ beamed, hugging his brother in return, all the crayons clattering to the bathtub floor. “I love you, Bucky.”

Bucky hugged back again. “I love you so much, baby brother,” he breathed out. Bucky knelt to gather the crayons before they were washed away in the shower water. Standing, he offered the set to TJ, grinning. “More drawing?”

TJ grinned and nodded, taking the red crayon from Bucky. “I love my Bucky forever.”

“And forever, I love my TJ,” Bucky responded, shaking the water from the crayons a bit and putting them back in the bucket. He’d dry them off later before they put them away completely. Taking the brown crayon, Bucky began adding a sturdy trunk to his tree. Today, today was a good day.

**************

TJ sat on the edge of his bed, slipping on his shoes before standing. He had an appointment today . . . would be forced to leave the home. He felt anxious . . . but not so bad that he needed to wear his safe suit. He’d settled for a pair of his jeans and a NYPD t-shirt that Bucky had gotten him. The brunet walked out of his room and offered Bucky a small smile, “gotta go see Helen today, huh?”

“Yup,” Bucky smiled, seeming more relaxed that Wednesday than he usually did on appointment days, too. “Got a surprise for my good TJ,” he sing-songed, grabbing his keys.

TJ perked up at the mention of a surprise, “like a present?”

“Not exactly but just as good,” Bucky promised. He led his brother from the apartment, spotting Steve watering his flowers. “Steve, ready?” Bucky grinned at TJ.

Looking over, Steve grinned at the two brothers, “yeah.” He finished watering his flowers and then set the watering can down. Someone in his department had needed to switch that week so it happened that the blond had an unusual Wednesday off.

“Is Steve sick, too?” TJ asked, eyes wide, “he hasta see Helen, too?”

“Not sick,” Bucky answered, “but he can come with us if you invite him. Steve switched shifts at his job.”

“Oh . . .” TJ nodded and looked at Steve, “you can come, Steve. You can meet Helen. She’s nice.”

“Thank you, TJ,” Steve grinned, walking up next to the brothers.

"And if TJ wants to afterwards, we're going to a toy store and to get Strawberry ice cream," Bucky reminded TJ while informing Steve.

Beaming brightly, TJ nodded, “Bucky’s gonna get me a friend for Luna!”

Steve laughed and nodded, “sounds like a very fun day.”

“And we’re getting a _Mickey_ to practice on before TJ gets tying shoes, if he ever wants them,” Bucky sounded so proud. “He can dress and undress by himself now so we want to move to the next thing to practice, right, Teej?”

“Uh huh!” TJ nodded, smiling at Bucky and Steve, seeming to forget his worries over being out in public.

“And,” Bucky sounded like he imparted a tidbit of great importance, “he drew rainbows without shaking, using six crayons at the same time, not one by one. We’re going to tell Helen about how well he’s doing.”

“Think she’s gonna give me a sticker or something?” TJ bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Do you want me to get your sticker book just in case or will you wait to get home before taking it from the backing?” Bucky encouraged.

“We can wait, Bucky. We can even put it in your wallet so it doesn’t get messed up,” TJ pointed out.

“Yes, that’s a great idea!” Bucky looked continually happy that day, like everything TJ did or said was another joy. He definitely felt a long way from the mess Brock had left behind a few weeks before.

Looking around, TJ tilted his head, “where’s Scott? He’s always here.”

“Today, we aren’t going by car, TJ,” Bucky smiled. He took TJ’s hand. “Today, we can walk, because Helen’s office is two blocks away.”

“We can walk!” TJ seemed ecstatic, his pale eyes lighting up with joy. “No car!”

Steve came up beside Bucky as they all started walking in the direction of Helen Cho’s office. Leaning close to whisper in Bucky’s ear, Steve said, “maybe you can help me pick out something for a certain birthday boy?”

“I’d love too,” Bucky laughed. “While he’s picking out Luna’s friend?” Bucky had a feeling that day would remain good for TJ due to not needing a car.

“Sounds good to me,” Steve grinned, straightening out once more. “Thanks for inviting me, Bucky.”

Nodding, Bucky responded, “you’re one of the people TJ considers a safe friend, and you’re a great landlord. I’d like to consider you a friend, too.” Bucky watched as TJ looked around, the pressure of a car had often oppressed the younger man enough that he missed looking at his surroundings too much.

Walking with Bucky, Steve smiled, nodding, “I consider both of you friends, as well. I’m happy to have such good people to rent out the upstairs. After Momma died,” the blond shrugged, letting out a sigh, “the house was way too big for just me. So, I had it converted so that I could rent it out.”

Nodding, Bucky sighed, “I’m glad TJ’s gotten comfortable there. And he’s started to let himself grieve for our family. I had no idea he thought they were upstairs the entire time.” Bucky shook his head, also in the process of dealing with things again since he had to relive them with TJ. “But, he’s a lot more social. Did I tell you he made a new friend?”

Brows raising in surprise, Steve shook his head, “no, you didn’t tell me that. Who’d he meet?” The blond knew that TJ suffered from some very severe anxiety that often stood in the way of meeting new people.

“My new partner,” Bucky smiled, without thinking how that could be construed to mean a few different things.

Steve tilted his head, his smile slipping only a bit, “you have a new partner? That’s . . . great!”

Nodding, Bucky called out, “Hey, Teej? You recognized Helen’s office?” The building they headed towards seemed so close now they could walk to it.

“Yeah!” TJ beamed, turning around and walking backwards a few steps as he pointed up at the next building, “it’s this one, Buck!”

“Good job!” Bucky called back, smiling. He looked at Steve, “you can wait inside? It’s not as oppressive as you might think.”

“Sure,” Steve laughed and followed Bucky and TJ into the medical office, looking around at the nicely decorated, soothing space.

TJ went up to the nurse at the desk and said, “we’re here to see Helen!”

The nurses that manned the front desk knew how uncharacteristic it was for TJ to even be talking in the waiting room. Smiling in return, delighted that this particular patient wasn’t crying and traumatized coming in for once, the nurse nodded. “She’s waiting for you. You can go right down to see her, TJ. You know the way.”

Beaming, TJ nodded, not even looking back at Bucky and Steve as he headed past the desk, towards Helen’s office.

Pride shone in Bucky’s eyes. “Moving was traumatic, but it’s done him so much good.”

“You want me to wait here?” Steve asked, already moving towards one of the chairs in the waiting room.

“Unless you’re called in,” Bucky chuckled. He offered a big smile then followed his baby brother down the hall to the doctor’s office.

**************

TJ had rarely been out in public since the accident and so hadn't visited a toy store in as much time. Now, Bucky reached out his hand to take TJ’s before they went inside. “Baby, if it gets too upsetting, we leave, remember? You can stop this at any time?” He offered a smile with his advice; however, not wanting to scare TJ.

“Stop at any time,” TJ nodded, looking up at the large building, his pale eyes wide and full of awe. “‘Kay, Buck. I’ll tell you . . . can - - can we get a friend for Luna now?”

“Yes, we can, Teej. You’re doing so well. Remember, others will be in there looking at the toys, too. You don’t have to talk to them unless you want to.” Bucky squeezed TJ’s hand, smiling, and pushed open the door. He led his brother inside and nodded to the store clerks as if old friends with the complete strangers. Receiving several smiles and even one friendly _‘Welcome to the toy store. Let us know if you need help.’_ Bucky lead TJ back towards the stuffed animals.

When they reached the wall filled with different stuffed animals, all different species and sizes, TJ blinked in shock. “There’s . . . a lot, Buck!” His eyes scanned the wall in front of them.

Nodding, Bucky chuckled, glancing over at Steve. “Well, there are a lot of people who want a special friend for cuddles, TJ. Think you can find the wolves or you want to look at all of them first?” Bucky didn’t move to hurry TJ at all. The longer his brother looked at stuffed animals, the more time he had to help Steve decide on a gift.

“Can I look at them all? Maybe Luna’s friend doesn’t need to be a wolf?” TJ asked, turning his eyes back to Bucky, “promise I won’t wander. I’ll stay right here.”

Nodding, Bucky answered, “a wise choice, TJ. We want the special friend for Luna. See what you _feel_ he’d like. Go ahead and look. I’ll be down that aisle with the games, right there,” Bucky pointed to the cross aisle close by.

Looking over at the indicated aisle, TJ nodded and then slipped his hand from Bucky’s, stepping up closer to start looking at all the different stuffed animals to choose from.

“If you pick one up, put it back before grabbing another, TJ,” Bucky advised. “And if all the animals decide to jump off the shelf and be silly, let me know so I can help wrangle them back up there.”

“Okay, Buck,” TJ answered, distracted by all the choices.

Steve chuckled and said, in a friendly tone, “I think he’s thoroughly distracted for the moment.” He offered a quick wink to Bucky.

Nodding Bucky didn’t think as he grabbed Steve’s hand and led him down the game aisle. He pointed out several games of TJ’s mental capacity age group. He always encouraged TJ to learn, so he favored the learning ones, too, as he walked with Steve.

“So, he likes board games?” Steve asked, not making Bucky let go of his hand as they looked at different games.

“He likes anything, really. I limited which games he accesses because I prefer him to get a feeling of accomplishment as he plays, not get bored by something stale.” Bucky picked up a box with a game where kids had to put together a colorful bug based on which parts a spinner revealed to use. They could put the pieces in any fashion they wanted, like _‘Mr. Potato Head,’_ but they had to get all the pieces in the end. Bucky smiled in amusement. “Haven’t played with one of these since I was little.”

Grinning, Steve leaned in closer, enough so that his breath ghosted down Bucky’s neck, so he could look at the game as well. “That looks fun,” he commented and then crouched down to grab another game, _‘Mousetrap.’_ “I remember this one, too!” Steve stood up so that they could both examine the two games.

“That would take him quite a while to catch on that as he plays he’s already gotten the trap built,” Bucky laughed softly. He frowned at some of the games present on the kids shelves, but merely skipped over ones he felt were inappropriate. “I think TJ would like so many of these. It’s been a long time since I actually could consider advancing his game supply.”

Putting his box back, Steve glanced at Bucky and asked, “why is that? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“Partly because I didn't want to leave him alone for a long time while I ran to a toy store to look,” Bucky smiled at Steve, “and partly because his hands shook so bad and I didn’t want him getting too frustrated too quickly. He can be hard to calm down if he feels like he’s failing.”

Nodding, Steve picked up another game, _‘Connect Four,’_ and showed it to Bucky, “too advanced for him?” The blond sounded genuinely curious, “might be a good learning game?”

“Well, take into consideration that he’d be playing with someone more advanced than him. The other person will see paths to winning TJ won’t. So, unless the other person lets TJ win, he may never win.” Bucky pointed to several games along a similar line. “He needs something that makes him feel accomplished without feeling like the other players are better than him and just letting him win. You’ve not seen how perceptive he can be. A game which evens the odds, like one that relies on a spinner or dice, can balance things for him.” Bucky headed for a game where a player moved their pawns around a board based on dice rolls, sending other players back to home to start over. The challenge would be choosing the right pawn of four to move with any given roll. “See, this one evens it out a bit because there’s no control on what he rolls. But he still gets to learn a bit of strategy and studying the other players to see where he wants to move.”

Putting his box back on the shelf, Steve headed over to the section where Bucky looked. Chuckling, the blond picked a box, “huh, _‘Yeti in My Spaghetti,’_ this is a new one. Kinda looks like _‘Jenga.’_ Place the little Yeti on top of some noodles which are on top of a bowl. Each player pulls a noodle. Whoever makes the Yeti fall into the bowl loses.”

Nodding, Bucky agreed, “that would definitely work. And it’s a relatively easy playing field.” He picked up a game considered extremely hard by many people, but Bucky secretly thought would work for TJ. “How about this one? You put down tiles, matching wolf butts to wolf heads. You have to get them all to match, which can be hard, but I think TJ would be obsessed with making the wolves right and won’t notice how hard it can be.” He smiled.

Grinning, Steve put back his game and walked up to Bucky to look at the matching game he’d chosen. “The wolves are very pretty, too. So, it’ll be nice to look at.”

Nodding, Bucky said, “I think TJ would love this. And,” he looked at Steve, “it’d be his very first adult game.”

“Well, as long as you think he could do it, then I think we found his present,” Steve chuckled.

Laughing, Bucky said, “and I’ll get him _‘Yeti,’_ too. You give him the wolf puzzle.” He handed over the box, smiling widely. “TJ will believe you think he’s so grown up. Added friend points.”

Looking down at the puzzle in his hands, Steve asked, smiling, “you’re sure?”

Laughing, Bucky nodded. “Friend points aren’t easy to get, Steve. Brother points come real easy. I think you’ll score big time if you give him anything with wolves, and that will entertain him. Plus, it _is_ beautiful to look at.” Bucky took the Yeti game and let Steve hold the wolf game. “There are so many here I’d like to get him. I know there’s plenty of time in his schedule for games and learning, after all. He’s not going to school.”

“Does he do home schooling?” Steve asked, heading towards the front of the store so he could buy the game and get it bagged so TJ wouldn’t see it.

Bucky walked with Steve towards the end of the aisle, but wouldn’t go further so he kept his word to TJ that he was in the game aisle. “No. He hasn’t been up to it yet. But I’m thinking it’s a possibility.” Sighing, Bucky said, “I’d need to find someone to teach him.”

“There are many special-needs tutors that do home-schooling,” Steve assured and then offered, “want me to pay for the _'Yeti'_ game? You can pay me back? That way TJ doesn’t see it?”

Bucky grinned and pulled out his wallet. He handed Steve a bill that was large enough to cover the game. “Or you can bring me the change,” he laughed, worrying in his mind about affording a private tutor on top of paying Loki’s extra shift wages he always seemed to wind up with. As TJ got healthier, they needed someone more and more, longer throughout the day. “And wolf paper. See if they might be willing to bag it with some wolf paper so I can wrap it later.”

Smiling, Steve nodded, taking the bill from Bucky, “you got it,” he winked and then turned on his heel to head towards the front register.

Bucky turned and headed back to the stuffed animals to check on his brother. Smiling, he warned of his approach by asking, “find a friend or a zoo?” before he ever left the game aisle.

Giggling, TJ nodded, looking down at the few animals he had in his hands; a black wolf, a giraffe, and an elephant. “I don’t know which one Luna will like the best?” He lifted his eyes once more to look at Bucky.

Nodding, Bucky said, “how much do we know about giraffes and elephants?”

“Giraffes like to eat leaves out of tall trees . . . and - - and elephants like to play in the water,” TJ replied.

Nodding, Bucky reached out to stroke TJ’s cheek. “Did you know that elephants can always remember where their family members died, and they have been seen going back to visit regularly?”

“Really?” TJ’s eyes widened and he looked down at the elephant he held, “maybe . . . maybe he could help me remember, Buck?”

Taking the elephant, Bucky studied the grey toy. Seeing a large enough underside that he could alter into a pouch which held a picture and other things, Bucky nodded, smiling widely. “Yes, I think he can, TJ. Let’s let the giraffe and wolf find homes with other loving people. I think the elephant is perfect.”

Grinning widely, TJ put back the wolf and giraffe. He looked over at Bucky and said, “I think he and Luna are gonna be best friends!”

Bucky took the elephant once more and turned it over to check underneath again. “Sure it’s not a girl elephant?” he teased.

Giggling again, TJ said, “it can be a girl, Bucky. How about Bubbles for a name, since they like to blow bubbles in the water!”

“I think Bubbles is a grand name,” another voice said, but from a bit further away, not blocking TJ in. It was Clint, from Bucky’s old precinct.

Looking over, TJ blinked and smiled slowly at the man he’d only met once, “hi, Clint! We’re getting a friend for Luna!” 

“Ah, so it’s Luna’s birthday coming up, too?” The detective walked over, grinning. He held a bag in his hand, whatever inside unidentifiable. “My girlfriend, Natasha, said she met you. She said if I make any mistakes, she’s switching boyfriends.” He winked.

Giggling, TJ shook his head, “Lucky’s my boyfriend. But . . . Natasha was good. She liked my wolf shirt.”

Just then, a little boy darted ahead of his mother, heading directly for the stuffed animals, bumping TJ on the right side of his body. For his part, TJ didn’t scream or anything, but he did whimper and stumble to the side, away from the unwanted contact.

The mother looked over and said, “I’m sorry! He just gets so excited coming into this store!”

Bucky nodded and stepped closer to TJ, on his right side but not touching, more protecting, a buffer. “It’s okay. He’s been injured on that side and it’s still very sensitive. I’m not trying to insult you, please don’t think that, but maybe if you tell your son that he’d enjoy the store more if he can see everything rather than a blur when he runs?” Bucky looked worried and anxious suddenly.

The mother nodded, not taking offense at Bucky’s suggestion. She moved up behind her son and started murmuring something in the boy’s ear.

Bucky looked at TJ, “ready to go make Bubbles part of the family, Teej, baby?” he crooned.

Whimpering softly again, TJ nodded, his fingers lifted to trace over the scars on his temple. He hugged Bubbles close to his chest.

“You’re doing so well, Teej. Come on. I’ll walk on the right, okay? Just a step at a time,” he coaxed his brother, the mother able to see how traumatized TJ was.

Swallowing thickly, TJ nodded and started making his way back up to the front of the store.

As they headed through the game aisle, which was thankfully clear, Bucky became aware that Clint walked behind them. He didn’t complain since the cop was far enough back not to upset TJ. Seeing a flash of bright primary colors in the corner of his eyes, Bucky reached over and randomly grabbed the game box, carrying it with them. He didn’t even look to see what he’d grabbed, intent on getting TJ out of the store, but offering him a distracting game as he did so. He hoped it wasn’t one he’d vetoed, but the bright colors denoted a child’s game.

As the trio got to the front, Bucky gave Steve a wan smile. He walked TJ to the clerk with the widest looking area around the register. “TJ, will you let her put Bubbles in her register so we can buy him, please?” Bucky asked softly, putting down the game on the counter, which turned out to be _‘Cootie’_ after all.

“Bubbles is a her,” TJ sniffled and reluctantly let go of the elephant to hand the stuffed animal to the clerk.

The clerk smiled and used her hand wand, normally for big items, to scan the elephant’s tag, instead of making TJ give it up completely. “There you are, sir. You can still hold her. He’s silly not to see it’s a girl elephant.” She took a colored ribbon from under her station and tied it on the elephant’s neck, it was hot pink with purple dots.

Blinking, TJ looked down at the ribbon and smiled softly, “see that, Buck? Bubbles has a pretty ribbon now!”

Bucky smiled widely at the sweet clerk, his gratitude at her kindness great. “Thank you so much! It’s a beautiful ribbon.” He paid for the game and the toy elephant, accepting a bag for the game only, and turned to TJ, Steve, and Clint.

TJ walked over to Steve and showed the ribbon to the blond, “see Steve! She gave Bubbles a pretty ribbon so people know Bubbles is a girl elephant!”

Steve looked fully impressed, “that is a very beautiful ribbon! Bubbles is a lucky elephant!”

TJ nodded, holding his new toy close to his chest. He looked back at Bucky as they left the store, “thank you, Bucky!” The brunet seemed to have almost completely forgotten about the incident in the store.

Grinning, Bucky patted TJ’s left shoulder, relieved and happy. “Want to get the ice cream and go home with it?”

“Ice cream?” Clint asked. “I was going to get ice cream, take it to Natasha. Want me to pick some up for you guys so you can go introduce Bubbles back home?”

“Gotta get strawberry ice cream, Clint! Strawberry is the best!” TJ insisted with a wide grin.

Clint blinked, as if in shock, “there’s other flavors beside strawberry? Huh, weirdos.”

Giggling, TJ looked back at Bucky.

Bucky nodded, “TJ, do we want to invite Clint and Natasha for ice cream or do you think TJ and Bubbles wants some quiet time?” Bucky smiled at his brother.

“No! They can come over, Buck! We can watch _'Horton Hears a Who!'_ That has an elephant in it, Bucky!” TJ pointed out.

Nodding, Clint said, “Natasha likes that one. I’ll go let her know and we’ll have a small friend party. Sound good?”

“Please, Bucky?” TJ begged his older brother.

Bucky looked at Steve, “you want to attend TJ’s first ever friend party, Steve?” He asked.

Grinning, Steve said, “I’d love to! Sounds like a lot of fun!”

“And,” Bucky handed TJ the bag with the game, “we even have a new friend party game!”

Opening the bag, TJ pulled out the game, being careful not to drop Bubbles, “there are silly bugs in this game, Buck!” TJ giggled.

Nodding, Bucky began walking TJ back to the house, “yup. You have to get the bug pieces and put them in your bug body. The first to finish a complete bug wins. But, you have to take turns getting bug pieces so it’s not a grabby game.”

“I can do it, Bucky! I promise!” TJ assured his brother, putting the game back into the bag before grabbing Bucky’s hand. “You’re the best brother ever!”

“Not uh,” Bucky countered, hugging TJ’s left side carefully. “You’re the best brother ever.”

The trio made it back to the apartment and TJ seemed to be coming down from all the excitement. The trip to the store had pushed TJ way passed his normal nap time. The thin brunet rubbed at his eye with his free hand, his other still clutching Bubbles.

Smiling, Bucky gave TJ a kiss on the forehead. “Nap time for TJ? We can have the friend party after. Gives us time to wrap TJ birthday gifts so he can’t see them.”

“You got me birthday presents?” TJ yawned, blinking sleepily.

Nodding, Bucky said, “yeah, baby. I got you another birthday present when you weren’t looking. Mind if I show Bubbles to our friends while you sleep with Luna? Luna can meet her when you both wake up?”

“M’kay. Then gotta take medicine after nap time,” TJ yawned again, having his schedule down by that point.

Nodding, Bucky said, “yup. After nap time is medicine.” He led his brother into the bedroom so he could settle the seventeen year old. Once TJ drifted off, Bucky brought the elephant back out and put it on the table. He went to get his sewing supplies, inherited from their mother. He also took out a photo album TJ never touched anymore. “Steve? Mind wrapping the game for me while I make the elephant into a memory-elephant?”

“Not at all,” Steve grinned, pulling out the two games and a roll of wolf wrapping paper. “Oh! Your change!” He pulled out his wallet to push a few bills and some loose change over to Bucky.

“There’s bows and tape and stuff in the drawer by the craft area,” Bucky waved to where he’d gotten the sewing supplies. He pocketed the money without looking then very carefully matched up a piece of bright pink plush with the elephant’s tummy, trimming it as needed. He refused to cut open the elephant without TJ’s prior approval.

As Steve returned with some bows and tape, the blond sat down across from Bucky and asked, “did your mother teach you to sew?”

Nodding, Bucky answered, “taught all of us, actually. I might be able to start re-teaching TJ soon, but want his medicines to stay balanced long enough that he gets more confident in his fine motor control. She used to make us toys and clothes, too, for gifts. This pink came from a bear Becca had. Mom made it for her birthday. The bear’s in a bin, actually.” Just as carefully, Bucky began sewing the plush pink fabric to the elephant's belly, making sure it was loose enough to store things in. “I’d prefer an internal pouch or even a jacket he could remove, but I haven’t time for that before his nap ends.”

“Do you wake him or does he wake up on his own?” Steve asked, cutting off some wrapping paper to start wrapping the first game.

“He wakes on his own.” Bucky lifted his eyes and smiled, hiding a yawn himself. “Like I said when we first met, everything’s on TJ time. I usually sleep when he does.”

“If you want a nap, feel free, Bucky. I can entertain Nat and Clint down in my apartment until you two wake up,” Steve offered with a smile.

“I’ll take you up on that, Steve. But I want to finish this first. Do me a favor, though?” Bucky nodded to the album. “Find a picture of the five of us, my parents and the three kids, that can fit in this pouch?”

Nodding, Steve pulled over the photo album and started going through it, looking at the pictures. Steve could see the very loving family in the photos. Seeing one of TJ behind a piano on a stage, Steve looked up at Bucky, asking softly, “he played piano?”

Nodding, Bucky glanced up, “yeah. He played without being taught. A child protege, actually. By the age of eight, he was playing any symphony or sonata or even rock song he heard. Not a lesson in his life. And, he was good. The school was trying to get our parents to agree to have him taught, but they refused. Finally, as you can see, they talked TJ into it anyway and so he played for the school concerts. He loved piano.”

Moving on to the next page, still searching, Steve asked, “have you tried letting him play after the accident?”

Looking up fully, Bucky sighed, “I had to sell Nana’s piano to pay his medical bills. He hasn’t touched one since, because he doesn’t do the public thing. I would love to see if he wants to try playing again. Even Helen thinks it’d be good for him, but I haven’t the heart to get one of those knock off kiddie synthesizers. It feels like it’d be a slap in his face after the instruments he’s played on.”

“Well, now that he’s able to go out . . . maybe you can talk with his old school? See if they’d be willing to let him try playing on the same piano? After school hours so there isn’t a lot of people?” Steve suggested, finally finding a picture of the entire Barnes family that would be small enough to fit in the pouch. He carefully pulled it free from the album.

“Yeah, I’ll ask Helen what she thinks about that,” Bucky yawned again as he finished knotting the thread and cut off the extra bit. He carefully took the picture from Steve, looking at it. Smiling softly, he laughed, “this was right before one of TJ’s concerts. I think it was a Christmas concert.” Gently, he tucked the photo in the pouch. It set in such a way that, unless TJ actually forcefully rumpled up the elephant, the picture would stay fairly neat and undamaged. “Perfect fit, Stevie. Thanks.”

  
  


“No problem,” Steve smiled, putting the two wrapped games next to the phone that Bucky had already bought. “I’ll leave you to get some sleep. Just holler at me when you want me to bring Clint and Natasha up.” The blond stood up.

“Thanks, Steve. You’re a good guy.” Bucky smiled sleepily. He picked up the elephant and brought it into TJ’s room, tucking the toy next to TJ’s wolf in the bed. He softly kissed his brother’s cheek then went off to his own room to get a nap, knowing TJ would come looking for him when he awoke.


	6. For Bad and Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Nightmares, Vomit, Severe Anxiety, Guilt, Depression, Post Traumatic, Referenced Death**

Sadly, it wasn’t a gentle shaking of his shoulder that woke Bucky up. It was a loud screaming coming from TJ’s room.

Instantly, Bucky shot out of bed and hurried to his brother’s side. “Teej? Baby? Bucky’s here,” he called.

TJ’s screams settled down to soft whimpers as his eyes opened and he looked around the room, looking very confused and terrified. “Where’s . . . where’s Momma? Where’s Becca?”

Bucky turned on the small lamp by the bed and sank down on TJ’s left. He stroked TJ’s hair. “Bubbles is protecting them, TJ. Wanna see?” he asked softly.

“They . . . they were in the car, Buck . . . Papa was there, too . . .” TJ looked up at his brother, his body trembling.

Nodding, Bucky hugged his brother gently and said, “yes. You dreamed about the car, too. But let me tell you something, baby?”

Sniffling, clutching onto Bucky tightly, TJ said, “okay . . .”

“When you went for your TJ nap, Bubbles told me she needed a pocket to carry your memory in. So, I made her a pocket.” Bucky lifted the elephant and handed it to TJ. “Why don’t you see what memory she found for you?”

Slowly letting go of Bucky, TJ wiped at his eyes and reached for Bubbles, taking the toy from Bucky and looking at it. He flipped it over to look at the pocket. Carefully, TJ pulled the picture out and whimpered at the sight of his family in the photo. With his free hand, TJ ran his fingers over the bumpy ridges of the scars on his temple and into his hair.

Softly, worried, Bucky asked, “was it a good memory she found, baby?”

“I - - I can’t ‘member it,” TJ’s eyes filled with tears and he shuddered. “I . . .” TJ made a soft choking noise and shook his head, “I want to!” He started tugging at his hair.

“TJ, baby, calm down. Okay? Listen to me,” Bucky soothed, hugging again. “You listening?”

TJ just whimpered in response, curling up into Bucky’s arms.

“Look at the picture and tell me who the woman is, TJ,” Bucky instructed softly.

“I - - I don’t want to!” TJ sobbed softly.

“Why not?” Bucky asked, just as gently.

“‘Cause . . . she’ll be mad at me . . . ‘cause I don’t ‘member!” TJ’s body trembled.

Bucky suddenly chuckled and said, “Momma would never be mad because you forgot something, TJ. She’d smile and tell you again. Momma was never mad when you forgot things.” He hugged again. “Look at her smile in the picture. Remember how she smiled all the time?”

Slowly, TJ untucked himself just enough so he could look at the picture again. He let out a shaky breath and said, “s - - she smiled. She . . . she liked to sing . . . sing in the kitchen?”

“TJ, you remembered, baby!” Bucky said, sounding proud and happy. “Bubbles helped you remember Momma singing in the kitchen!”

“But . . .” TJ looked down at the picture again, “I - - I don’t remember this!”

“TJ, you won’t remember every picture ever taken. Neither do I. Neither could Momma or Daddy or Becca. But the important things, like smiles and what people liked to do? That’s what are important, not posing for a picture.” He cuddled again, gently. “You remember how Daddy would go in the kitchen and boom out _‘you’re making the birds sad they can’t sing as pretty, woman!’_?”

Curling into Bucky’s hug, TJ nodded, wiping at his eyes again, “Daddy . . . Daddy would come up behind her and they’d start dancing, right, Buck?”

“Yes, TJ, that’s right.” Bucky smiled down at TJ. “I forgot that until you said it. See, Bubbles taught us something. If we tell each other, we can remember even more.”

“Y - - you think that Momma and Daddy are happy with me, Buck?” TJ asked softly.

Bucky pulled back enough to study TJ’s face then figure. Smiling wider, he nodded. “Well, since I’m happy with you, and so proud of you, and love you so, so much, I think they can’t help but feel the same way: happy, and proud, and so, so much love.”

“Really?” TJ asked, his pale eye wide and hopeful.

“And,” Bucky looked around the room as if trying to make sure no one heard a secret he was about to tell, “I think Becca does, too. Even if she is scrunching up her nose and sticking out her tongue, remember?”

“I . . . I ‘member. She . . . she was my twin. We came from Momma’s tummy at the same time,” TJ said softly.

“Well,” Bucky chuckled again, “you were ten minutes ahead of her, but yeah. You shared Momma’s tummy for nine months.”

“Why couldn’t they save Becca, too, Bucky?” TJ asked, voice trembling, “they saved me. Why couldn’t they save Becca?”

“Because the angels wanted her to be a guardian angel. They needed you down here to help me stay nice and not a mean grumpy cop. But they needed Becca to guard over little kids in heaven.” Bucky cuddled TJ. “And when the angels want someone to go to heaven, the doctors can’t stop it.”

“The angels are stupid and mean,” TJ bit out, voice hitting a low note of anger that Bucky knew was very uncommon.

Nodding, Bucky sighed, “sometimes, I think so, too, baby. But sometimes I have to remind myself that Becca loved to help little kids, and so the angels gave her a job she loves.”

“They coulda gave her a job later! They . . . are stupid and I hate them!” TJ snapped.

Bucky stroked TJ’s hair and said, “yeah, they could’ve. I get mad at them, too.” He knew TJ needed to go through the anger stage of grieving so didn’t deny him, despite the subject of his direct anger.

Still curled up in Bucky’s arms, TJ whimpered and shook his head, “she was better than me. The angels are stupid and they made Becca go away.”

“A man who drank alcohol then drove a car made Becca go away, baby. The angels took her to heaven after that guy killed her.” Bucky stroked his brother’s hair.

“No! They coulda left her! They left me - -”

“TJ,” Bucky sighed, “if they left her, she would have been dead anyway.” He lifted TJ’s chin and met his eyes. “Metal stuck in her heart. Becca didn’t even feel it. She died before anyone knew what happened.”

“No, no, no,” TJ shook his head frantically, “coulda . . . they left _me_. They broke my head and left me without Becca.”

“The angels didn’t break your head. That guy did. The angels helped you wake up and come back to _me_ , TJ.” Bucky held his brother close but not tightly.

Whimpering, TJ burrowed against Bucky, his thin body trembling and fresh tears running down his cheeks, “I don’t want to have a broken head anymore, Buck . . .”

“I know, baby. I know,” Bucky cuddled, finally holding TJ tighter, knowing it wouldn’t bother him for the moment. “If I could fix it I would. I love you so much.”

The seventeen year old whimpered, his body trembling, skin pale and cheeks flushed. The younger man felt like he was about to get sick. He couldn’t get his nightmare out of his head. He could hear the screeching metal, feel the car spinning over and over again. He mewled softly, a very distressed noise, “Buck . . .” he murmured helplessly.

“Baby? Wanna get outta bed?” Bucky offered, worried by TJ’s tone.

Nodding, TJ tried to get out of bed in time, stumbling a bit in his hurry. Unfortunately, the thin brunet’s entire world spun with the sudden movements and he threw up; he tried to cover his mouth but that just ended up making more of a mess.

Bucky grabbed TJ and supported his weight, not even trying to prevent the mess all over them both and their surroundings. Instead, he held TJ close, soothing, “it’s okay, baby, let it out. There’s my good baby brother.” When TJ had finished getting sick, Bucky literally picked the younger man up and carried him into the master bathroom, far away from the mess. He eased his brother into the shower they’d played in earlier and turned it on warm, letting TJ stay in his pajamas for the moment. “Lean on the wall, Teej, baby,” Bucky crooned, rinsing his hands off.

TJ sobbed softly, leaning on the wall, his clothing covered in the mess. He let the warm water cascade down his body. “I - - I’m sorry . . .”

“It’s okay, baby. I forgive you. Sick gets a free pass,” Bucky stroked TJ’s curls with a clean, wet hand. “You stay leaning just like that, okay. I’m getting my phone. Don’t move, okay?”

Sniffling, TJ nodded, his body still visibly trembling though he made no moves to get off the wall.

“There’s my good boy. You rest right there.” Bucky hurried to his bedroom to grab his phone and came back, not even looking at the device until he was next to the shower once more. “I’m back, baby. Is the water warm enough?”

“Yes . . .” TJ said softly, barely able to be hear over the spray of the water.

“Did you wanna try to get outta your pajama shirt, baby?” Bucky asked, dialing with one hand, still covered in sick. He flicked on speaker phone.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve answered after the second ring, laughter in his voice, obviously, having a pretty good time with Natasha and Clint in the downstairs apartment. “All rested up there?”

“TJ’s not well. Bad dreams. He’s sick. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I hate waking up Loki in the middle of the day to come down here. Can I get help?” Bucky made sure he could be heard over the shower, but he never took his eyes off TJ or his hand from TJ’s curls.

Tone instantly firming with seriousness, Steve replied, “of course. I’ll be right up. Do you need more than one person?”

“If they want, I’d be grateful. TJ’s bedroom and his friends could use a cleaning. I can do it if someone’s with him, or I can bathe him.” Bucky sighed, but he didn’t sound angry or even frustrated, just worried.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll ask Clint and Nat if they’re willing to help. I’ll be right up regardless. Is the front door open so I can just come in?” Steve asked, sounding like he was already getting up and getting things.

“Yeah, I actually didn’t lock it after you left,” Bucky sighed, relieved he’d forgotten for once. “Hey, Teej, baby, did you wanna try to take off the shirt?” Bucky asked again.

“I ruined it . . . ruined it,” TJ sobbed, his hands pulling at the shirt that was covered in vomit.

“Ruined what, sweetheart?” Bucky asked, stroking TJ’s curls.

“My shirt,” TJ sobbed, tugging at his shirt again, struggling as he attempted to pull it off.

“Thanks, Steve,” Bucky said then hung up and put the phone outside of the reach of the water. He then stripped off his own clothes, leaving on his underwear, and stepped into the shower stall. Sinking down beside his brother, he said, “did not. It’ll come clean real easy, baby.” Bucky helped TJ out of his clothes, though he left TJ’s underwear on as well.

“No, no,” TJ shook his head, sobbing. He ran his fingers through his wet curls, tugging and pulling.

Bucky captured his brother’s hands and un-tangled them. “I think TJ’s ready to learn how to wash messes from clothing. What do you think, baby?”

“I r - - ruin everything!” TJ sobbed, his fingers twitching in Bucky’s hands.

Hugging his brother, Bucky said, “not true, again. Boy, TJ’s full of doubt today, isn't he? Want me to show you that the shirt isn’t ruined, baby?”

Sniffling, TJ’s pale eyes flickered to look at his brother. He slowly nodded.

“Watch this, Teej.” Bucky grabbed the soap and put a little in his hand. He began rubbing it carefully into TJ’s shirt then rinsed away vomit and soap, revealing a clean, if very wet, shirt. “See? Want to learn to wash your clothes and mine, baby?” Bucky smiled, not seeming upset at all.

Whimpering, TJ nodded again, his pale eyes flickering to the door as he heard the front door of the apartment opening and closing and soft, murmuring voices.

Clint walked right into the bathroom doorway and offered a sympathetic smile. “Tummy rebelled, huh? I’m gonna help clean up. I know what it’s like for a tummy rebellion. Want me to get you guys towels or robes or something so you can get outta the shower or you wanna clean up totally first?”

Flushing bright red, TJ buried his face in Bucky’s neck, his thin body shaking.

Nodding, Clint said, “okay, I’ll bring in drawers and robes for you two. May I go in your room, TJ?”

Bucky looked up, “TJ wants to learn to wash clothes. So just pile the sheets and clothes together that need cleaning so he can learn?”

“Will do. Teej? Honey? May I go in your room?” Clint smiled gently at the distressed young man.

Still keeping his face buried in Bucky’s neck, TJ slowly nodded, his fingers trembling and twitching as they ran up and down Bucky’s chest.

“Reminds me of taking care of my brother, Barney, when he got sick. Eventually, he was able to take care of me when I got sick, so it evened out,” Clint said. He left the bathroom, signaling to the other pair to let him handle the clean up in the bedroom.

Bucky, still leaving their underwear on, began washing TJ’s hair, offering him a soapy cloth to wash his body with. “Ah, but what Clint didn’t say is that big brothers don’t mind helping little brothers when they get sick. It’s a big brother’s job.” He cuddled and smiled.

“I - - I want to take care of Buck, too,” TJ murmured softly.

Nodding, Bucky said, “I’d love that, Teej. I think you’re ready to learn. When we get clean and dressed, I can show you how to wash the clothes and bedding, okay? I think you’ll find it’s an easy job!” Bucky stroked TJ’s cheek then helped him carefully to rinse his hair.

“Okay . . .” TJ sniffled, his eyes red and swollen from the crying. “Th - - that way you don’t hafta do it anymore . . .”

Looking delighted, like he hadn’t thought of it, Bucky said, “hey, and you can help Loki with the washing chores, too, if it needs doing at night. You’re brilliant, Teej baby.” Bucky took the cloth from TJ and finished washing the parts that had been exposed, smiling the entire time. “Let’s get rinsed and dried so we can go learn to wash, right, TJ?”

Clint carried robes, undies, and fresh towels into the room, putting them on the sink counter. He smiled then walked back out.

“TJ, think if I give you a list of how to do it, I can teach you to wash dishes, too? Both of them use machines. You just load and follow certain instructions. I can have the lists attached to the proper washers?”

“Okay,” TJ said softly, letting the water rinse his body off.

“You know, I love you, right, Teej? But,” Bucky smiled and offered TJ a towel, “did you know how much I appreciate you, too?”

“Don’t do anything,” TJ murmured, taking the towel and holding it. “B - - but I’ll do stuff . . . I . . . I learn,” the brunet wrapped the towel around his thin body.

Nodding, Bucky smiled brightly, “see, that’s why I appreciate you so much. Many people would get sick, and cry for hours over it, but not my TJ. My TJ gets sick, cries for only a few minutes, then gets right back in there to try to clean things up and help out. He’s special because he cares about other people, too.” Bucky unwrapped the towel and began drying his brother off with it, “and you’re supposed to dry off, goose,” he touched foreheads with a grin, relieved he’d gotten past the sickness to TJ’s sunnier side, even if TJ was still upset a bit.

TJ didn’t say anything, letting Bucky dry him. His fingers still twitched and spasmed at his sides as he attempted to pull off his underwear so he could dress in the fresh pair. After several moments, TJ finally managed to strip completely and began pulling on the new clothes.

“Good boy,” Bucky murmured, not pressuring TJ about how long it took to calm enough to undress or redress. Instead, he took advantage to do so for himself, as well. Finally, once TJ had his new underwear on, the ones with Captain America and the Winter Soldier pictures on them, Bucky wrapped TJ in his fluffy, warm robe. “How’s the tummy, baby?”

“Okay. I won’t get sick again,” TJ assured his brother, wanting to help clean so he didn’t feel so worthless and stupid.

“Well, if your tummy gets sick again, let me know, okay? We can have a bowl handy just in case. Let’s get these clothes and the bed linens and go learn to wash things up.” Bucky hugged his brother and grabbed both towels, wrapping the dirty clothes inside. He smiled at his brother. “Wanna carry this bundle and I’ll carry the linens?”

“Okay,” TJ took the bundle from Bucky, scrunching his nose at the smell of his own sick.

When Bucky lead TJ to the bedroom to get the linens, they saw Clint sitting, cross legged, on the rug, cleaning off Bubbles very carefully, talking to the elephant about her bath as if she could hear him. He didn’t say anything negative against TJ, but did explain to the toy that sometimes we get sick when we get overwhelmed and that TJ would love to see her after her bath. He looked up and offered the brothers a smile. “Hey, Luna’s clean and drying already. I think he’s worried about TJ. Wanna say hello to him?” He gestured to the desk where Luna sat on a piece of white paper.

Shaking his head, dropping his eyes, TJ held his bundle a little tighter, “don’t wanna get him gross again.”

“Okay, maybe after you wash the clothes, huh?” Clint smiled and stood up to add Bubbles next to Luna on the desk. “Let me get the rug and everything will be all clean. I think Steve and Natasha are making some soup and juice for everyone to have, if they want.”

Bucky stroked TJ’s back then retrieved his larger bundle. “Once your tummy settles enough to hold in soup. Not right away, baby, but a little later. Then you can see Luna and Bubbles. Right?”

“I’m a bad friend. But . . . I’m gonna get to be a better friend that doesn’t make them gross,” TJ said softly.

Nodding, Clint said, “Well, the best things about friends? Good friends? They forgive sick, too, just like brothers. They know how a tummy gets when someone has bad dreams. Luna never said anything about being upset at you. He said he was worried you were hurting.” Clint touched Luna’s back and asked, “right, Luna?” A very soft, faint wolf howl sounded from Clint and the animals on the desk.

Sniffling, unable to wipe at the stray tear that fell from his eyes, trailing down his cheeks, TJ said, softly, “don’t wanna be a bad friend . . . gonna learn to clean. I bet Captain America cleans for his friends.”

Nodding, Clint said, “and once you learn how to clean clothes and then dishes, I can teach you how to clean your stuffed friends. Okay? Not today. The others are a big lesson, but when you’re ready, just let me know.” Clint knelt down and started cleaning the rug, humming a Broadway show tune, as if cleaning wasn’t an icky chore at all.

Looking back at Bucky, TJ asked, “you show me now? Please?”

“Sure, let’s go to the laundry area, okay? Come on, sweetheart.” Bucky carefully bumped TJ’s non-scarred arm. He lead his brother into the laundry area of their second floor apartment. Showing TJ how to separate the laundry, whites versus colors, he then showed him how to load the laundry in the washer and put in a soap pod. He pointed out what to do to set it then turned the washer on. Turning to hug TJ, Bucky said, “I’ll make sure to hang a list so you can remember how to do it, okay, baby?”

“I don’t mean to be stupid,” TJ said softly, hugging his brother in return.

“Stupid?” Bucky shook his head and dropped a kiss on TJ’s cheek. “Okay, time to pull out the photo albums. I’ve got a special one to show you!” Bucky led his brother to the box of albums he hadn’t bothered to unpack because they never looked at them. Pulling out a large black binder filled with sheet protectors, he opened it to reveal a lot of individual lists for doing things, including making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. “These are the lists Momma and Daddy made for me when I was learning, too, TJ.” He turned and handed the book to TJ. “It’s yours now.”

Blinking in surprise, TJ looked at Bucky and then at the book, “Momma made a book for you? But . . . you’re the smartest person in the _whole world_ , Buck!”

Laughing gently, Bucky said, “maybe, but I had to learn, too, TJ. I wasn’t born knowing how to make sandwiches or wash laundry.” He hugged TJ. “I’ll make sure to put up lists, just like those, for different chores you can learn, okay? But we won’t get rid of any of the original lists. See, Momma and Daddy’s lists don’t work for the washer and dryer we have now, so we can just keep the lists in the book instead. Right?”

“Right,” TJ said softly, rubbing at his eyes again, “I love you, Buck.”

Smiling, as if the sun had finally come out, Bucky hugged TJ. “I love you so, so much, TJ!” He began guiding his brother out and towards the bedroom. “Wanna check on Luna and Bubbles?”

“Yeah,” TJ nodded and then said, “Buck? It’s past five. I take my medicine at five.”

“I know, sweetheart, but I wanna be sure your tummy won’t get upset. The medicine won’t do any good if it makes you sick, okay? Let’s give it half an hour more and see if you can eat a few crackers and some tea?” Bucky swept TJ’s damp curls from his forehead.

“M’mkay,” TJ murmured, not liking that he was getting off his schedule but seeing Bucky’s logic.

Bucky cuddled again, “Loki told me some time ago that a half hour won’t hurt and you can still take the next dose on time. So, in half an hour you’ll remind me, right, Teej?”

“Half hour. Then I can still take medicine at one?” TJ felt relieved that he would still be on his schedule. “Remind you in a half hour.”

“Exactly, baby,” Bucky lead his brother to the kitchen and greeted Natasha and Steve. “Hey guys. I’m going to show TJ how to do the dishes. Do we have any that need cleaning?”

Steve looked up and smiled softly at the two brothers, his blue eyes worried. “Hey, Buck, Teej.” He looked behind his shoulder, seeing a few dishes piled up from him and Nat making the tea and soup. “And yeah, we got a few. But, be careful. The soup pot is still hot.”

“Okay, that’s actually perfect.” Bucky gestured to the table. “Teej, put down your book and I’ll show you how to do this. Tomorrow I’ll have you wash clothes and dishes while I watch and help if you forget, okay?”

Looking down at the book he held close to his chest, TJ slowly nodded, setting it down and following his brother into the kitchen.

“Okay, TJ, see these thick, quilted squares and gloves by the stove? Those are to protect your hand when picking up hot things. Grab one.” Bucky took a glove and put it on, smiling at TJ.

TJ grabbed the other one and put it on his left hand, his right trembling and spasming slightly at his side.

Bucky picked up the soup pot by the handle, “use the handle. It’s the least hot of the entire pan, Teej.” He carried the pot to the sink and put it down in the sink. Turning on the cold water, he moved the pot around under the water to cool the metal quickly. “See how I use _cold_ water to cool the pan down? This way I don’t get burned while trying to put it in the dishwasher. You can cool down a lot in colder water. About a minute or two should cool it enough.” He looked to TJ. “I’ll make sure to add this to the list of instructions so you remember, okay?”

Nodding, eyes wide, TJ said, “okay . . . I think . . . I don’t think I’d be able to remember everything . . .”

“Of course not, neither could I at first. That’s why we have lists.” Bucky turned off the cold water and opened the dishwasher. “Now, remember how we always rinse our dishes before putting them in the sink to be washed later?”

TJ nodded slowly, “yes? You . . . you rinse them in the sink then put them in there,” he pointed to the dishwasher.

“Right, because the dishwasher doesn’t like food chunks. Food chunks get stuck and then it doesn’t clean as well. So, we rinse all our dishes first.” Bucky smiled happily, glad he could help TJ expand and take on more chores. After all, TJ needed to feel helpful and this would help him grow, as well. “Okay,” Bucky began showing TJ how to put the dishes in the washer, knowing he’d draw a diagram to go with the list, too. Once done, he showed TJ how to do the soap and drying solution then shut and turn on the dishwasher. “And it will sound a chime when done. The other washer will sound a triple beep. But I’ll also write that down.”

TJ’s eyes had gone a bit wider and he nodded again, trying desperately to hold on to all this new information.

Bucky reached out and stroked TJ’s hair. “Okay, sit down and eat some crackers and tea while I start writing the instructions, okay? Then we can hang them on the different machines so you won’t have to remember every word.” He gave Natasha and Steve thankful smiles.

Clint walked in, carrying a large, wrapped box. It had kitten wrapping paper and a huge green bow, all floppy and uneven. It looked like he’d used too much tape and hadn’t made the paper lines straight so the kittens didn’t match up well. He set the box on the table and grinned. “I hear the clothes washer. So next is the dishwasher, right? After the other washer’s done? Can’t run both at the same time, because they both want water.”

Flushing, Bucky ran over to shut the dishwasher back off. “Forgot, sorry,” he murmured to Steve, the house owner. He set a plate of crackers and a mug of tea in front of his brother.

Steve waved a dismissive hand, “no worries, Bucky. I’ve done it, too.”

Natasha laughed softly and gestured to the gift that Clint had, “had fun with the paper, babe?”

Smiling, Clint shrugged, “I’ve always had trouble wrapping things, but, hey, it’s wrapped right?” With Bucky forgetting about the water and Clint’s poor wrapping job, they were inadvertently showing TJ that he wasn’t the only non-perfect person.

TJ sat at the table, his right hand clenched in a tight fist, the muscles quivering slightly under the skin. He looked at Clint and Bucky, his lips pulled into a very small smile. He felt a little better - - not completely, but at least there was some improvement. TJ reached towards the crackers with his left hand, unable to even move his right. The smaller brunet started nibbling at his cracker.

Bucky walked over to TJ’s medicine and got out his five o’clock doses. He brought them over and set them next to TJ’s plate, on a different plate they specifically used for the medicines. “Make sure to wait until five thirty, right, TJ?” Bucky smiled.

“Five thirty,” TJ confirmed with a nod, still nibbling at his cracker.

“I heard that you think Captain America is a good friend, TJ,” Natasha commented before taking a sip of her tea. She looked over at Bucky and Steve and said, “I think your brother and Steve look _just_ like the Winter Soldier and Captain America, don’t you?” She offered a wink to the two older men, trying to make things a little less tense for the seventeen year old.

  
  


Steve flushed and let out a soft chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I do?” Bucky smiled. “I had no idea I looked like Captain America!” he teased, watching TJ.

That seemed to do the trick, TJ grinned and shook his head, “no, Buck! You look like the Winter Soldier!”

“I do?” Bucky shook his head, “but I thought _you_ look like the Winter Soldier?”

“Not uh!” TJ giggled, shaking his head, “you, do!”

“Ya know something else?” Natasha grinned, looking between Bucky and Steve again, “some people say Captain America and the Winter Soldier are _boyfriends_.”

TJ beamed brighter and nodded.

“Wait, but TJ is boyfriends with Loki, not Steve!” Bucky laughed, flushing a bit at the idea of being linked with the beautiful blond at their table.

“No! You can be boyfriends with Steve, Buck! You’re like the Winter Soldier! You catch the bad guys, jus’ like him, Buck!” TJ beamed, seeming to forget his troubles for the moment, despite his tensed up right hand.

Steve blinked, looking over at Bucky and then TJ and then back to Bucky. He remembered that Bucky had told him that he’d gotten a new partner already . . . maybe Bucky hadn’t told TJ yet? “Well, TJ, the Winter Soldier could have any boyfriend he wants, ‘cause he’s so good. Maybe he doesn’t wanna be stuck with Captain America?”

“I would if I was him,” Bucky murmured. He glanced at the box and cleared his throat, “so, Clint, what’s that for?”

Looking up at Bucky, TJ frowned softly in confusion.

Laughing, Clint looked between Bucky, who flushed, and Steve, who also seemed slightly flustered. “This is a _Friend Day_ gift,” he claimed. He pushed it towards Natasha, “and traditionally, the youngest friend opens the gift. Natasha? I think you’re younger than us at twenty-something?”

“No!” TJ exclaimed, his smile back on his face, “ _I’m_ the youngest! I’m seventeen, Clint!” He eyed the present, wanting to know what was in it.

Blinking, as if he was surprised, Clint said, “you sure you’re seventeen? I thought you were twenty-two!”

“No! I’m seventeen. I turn eighteen on August thirteenth. That’s the eighth month in the year, Clint. It’s on Friday, huh, Buck?” TJ grinned at his older brother.

“TJ’s right, he turns eighteen on Friday,” Bucky confirmed. “Makes him younger than twenty-something.”

“Well, that means he gets to open the present,” Natasha smiled at the younger man and pushed the present over to TJ.

Grinning widely, TJ grabbed it with his left hand and started tearing the paper one-handed. Once the paper was mostly off, TJ squealed happily when he saw a new game, _Mousetrap_. “Look, Bucky! Look! It’s a new game!”

“Wow!” Bucky grinned widely. “Hey, TJ, what time is it?” Bucky looked towards the clock, which was a minute from five thirty.

Looking over at the digital clock, TJ said, “it’s five-thirty, Buck! I can take my medicine now, huh?” TJ had eaten a few crackers and taken several sips of his tea, managing to keep everything down.

“Yup, as long as your tummy feels okay?” Bucky smiled and touched the edge of TJ’s pill plate.

“It feels okay, Buck,” TJ reassured his brother.

“Good, take your medicine so you stay on schedule. I'm going to go get my phone from the bathroom. I just remembered I left it in there on the floor.” Bucky stood up, ignoring the fact that he and TJ were still in soft, fluffy bathrobes in front of their guests, and walked out of the room. He hurriedly called Maria Hill while in the bathroom, listening for the woman to pick up her phone.

The Lieutenant picked up just after the third ring, “Lieutenant Hill.”

“Ma’am,” Bucky breathed, “I hate to ask, but is there a way I can work on phone or paper trail by computer at home tonight? TJ had a very bad day and I might have to stay here with him if he isn’t better by tonight. No sleep . . .” He hated calling in so close to first starting, but hoped she’d let him do admin stuff on the case, chasing phone contacts or calling witnesses who’d left tips.

“Is he alright?” Maria asked, sounding genuinely worried.

“He’s improving. We have some friends over right now, including my partner. But, it was a bad nightmare. He dreamed of the accident, and this time got real sick afterwards.” Bucky sounded troubled. “I hate to ask this, ma’am. Really.”

“You can work admin work tonight. But, as long as your brother is okay, I expect to see you here Saturday evening,” Maria offered.

“I will, I promise, ma’am. I don’t take off on good days. If I can get TJ to sleep on time, I might be able to come in for half a shift. Don’t want to fall asleep on the job from lack of sleep . . . I’m not making sense, am I?” Bucky sounded as tired as he claimed to be, confused and even yawning. He hadn’t had much sleep that day.

“Try and get some rest, Barnes. If you can make it in for a half shift, I’d appreciate it. I want this serial killer caught as soon as possible,” Maria said, the sound of shuffling papers coming through the phone.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll see if I can get him to sleep in an hour, on time. You don’t know how much it means to have such an understanding supervisor.” Bucky sounded so relieved.

“Well, Captain Fury said you were a good detective and a good man. So far from what I’ve seen, I have to agree with him. Good day, Barnes,” Maria sounded approving.

"Good night, uh . . . day, ma'am." Bucky hung up. He hurried back into the other room. “So, did you guys read the rules without me?” He smiled at the others. Bucky could see it was a four player game, and they had five people. He wasn’t sure how that would work out.

“Not uh, I told them to wait for you, Buck!” TJ grinned and then offered, “you wanna play first, Buck? I can watch so that way I know how to do it.”

Clint frowned. “You mean I have to play a mouse? I can’t be the cat and play fetch and carry when the ball rolls away?”

“Why don’t TJ and I be a team, so if TJ thinks he can do something, he gets a chance?” Bucky temporized.

“Yeah! I wanna be on Buck’s team,” TJ readily agreed, beaming up at his brother.

Bucky smiled, He reached over and touched TJ’s left arm. “Teammates and brothers forever, right, Teej? If I’m Winter Soldier, you can be . . . Falcon?” He pretended to have very little clue as to TJ’s favorite super heroes just so the younger man could feel good about knowing something.

Grinning, TJ nodded, “the Winter Soldier and Falcon are teammates in _Civil War_ , Buck, remember? They fight Spider-man!”

“And they fought for the South, right?” Bucky paused to see if TJ would question it or go with it, comparing the movie to the American battle. “And the guys in masks were the North?”

“Wrong _Civil War_ ,” Clint laughed. “I think it was whoever won the fight got to keep the planes, right?” He winked.

“Captain America and the Winter Soldier went on the _quinjet_! They had to go stop the bad guy, just like you do, Buck!” TJ grinned at his older brother. He’d watched the _Marvel_ movies many times over the years and knew all the characters.

Laughing, Bucky nodded, “ah, yeah, _that_ was how it went.” He scooted close to TJ so they could work as a team, letting his brother choose their color mouse. With TJ’s interrupted sleep and such excitement, Bucky hoped he’d get his brother to bed shortly, but had long learned not to push TJ when it came to sleeping. That was an activity done in TJ time, not real time.

It was only about thirty minutes into the game when TJ started to drift off, his head on Bucky’s shoulder, his breath even and soft.

Smiling, Bucky carefully stood, still supporting his brother, and lifted TJ into his arms. He didn’t say anything to the others, merely carrying TJ to his freshly cleaned room and his newly remade bed. Slipping his brother under the blankets, Bucky grabbed Luna, thankful the stuffed wolf was dry already; Clint hadn’t soaked the animals through. Tucking Luna in next to TJ, Bucky kissed his brother’s cheek and whispered, “Bucky loves his TJ.”

After a moment, Bucky pulled out his phone and texted Natasha. He fumbled his spelling a bit, but told her the deal he’d made with Maria and that he was going to try to sleep in with TJ to keep the other man calm, so he could actually make half a day at work. Putting his phone on the nightstand, Bucky slid into bed behind his brother and whispered, “Bucky’s here, baby. You rest now.” He yawned, and drifted off.

**************

Bucky offered Maria Hill a grateful smile as he walked into the briefing room, on time to start the shift, even with permission to do only half. He’d determined he’d hold out as long as possible, hoping he could make the entire shift that night. He’d had some sleep with TJ, after all, his presence seeming to keep the young man contented enough not to wake up. “Hey, Chief,” he said, switching from the formal _‘ma’am’_.

Hill looked over and if she was surprised to see Bucky, it didn’t show on her face. She nodded in acknowledgement, “Barnes. How is the brother?”

His smile including relief, Bucky said, “he fell asleep within the hour and actually slept through until the nurse showed up. I’m hoping I got enough sleep to make the entire shift, but I’ll back out if I’m feeling tired later on.”

Nodding again, Hill said, “well, you showed up just in time. Another robbery, this one at a club. One DOA, the club’s bouncer. You and Romanov are on it.”

“Got it.” Bucky looked at Natasha, “ready?”

Natasha nodded as she slipped on her light coat, “born ready, Barnes,” she gave him a smile before leading him out of the precinct towards their cruiser.

Bucky followed willingly, feeling no hint of tiredness at the moment. “A club is not the normal M.O., Natasha. The guy’s hit convenience stores, delis, and gas stations. Generally low customer count at a given time and easy egress to roads or exits. A club at this hour would be packed and have a lot of witnesses.”

“Yeah, which means he’s escalating. It’s a miracle that no one else was killed,” Natasha said, slipping in behind the wheel.

“Was the bouncer outside or inside when killed? Was he extricating a patron? And what happened to said patron? Could it, in fact, be the robber?” Bucky fastened his seat belt and continued to list things that they needed to check for the interviews.

“Anything is possible at this point,” Natasha sighed, “the shooting happened a little less than an hour ago.”

“Well, same routine, of course, talk to the first responders and the M.E. then start on the witnesses and other club goers.” Bucky sighed, “might get lucky and have the bastard on club security.”

“One can only hope,” Natasha nodded, pulling out into traffic and heading in the direction of the club. “Still having TJ’s party tomorrow?” She asked.

Smiling wider, Bucky nodded. “You bet. Short of the world exploding or some other dinosaur-killing catastrophe, TJ gets his birthday party on time. Glad it’s a Friday, too, so it coincides with my day off. I’ll have time to decorate and everything. You still coming? I know I ditched without much warning today.”

“We get it,” Natasha offered Bucky a quick smile before turning her eyes back on the road, “and Clint and I would love to come. Want us to bring anything? Food or something? What does TJ like to eat?”

“Well, homemade cards are a tradition. Never a store bought card. And TJ would be ecstatic with a present if you want, but he already knows that other people might not be able to afford them so he won’t be bent out of shape if he only gets what’s already sitting there.” Bucky shot Natasha a happy smile. Despite the nightmare and illness, that day had been a very good day with TJ being able to go to the doctor without a panic attack and then to a toy store, the first time since the accident in fact. He continued to tell Natasha about TJ’s food likes and decoration likes until they pulled up to the crime scene.

Unfastening his belt as his eyes scanned the controlled chaos outside the club, Bucky said, “oh, the card? You can write _’Happy Birthday’_ on a folded piece of paper and it counts, so don’t think you have to spend hours using glitter and stuff. TJ’s got every card he’s ever received in a bin, even the quickly dashed off paper ones Becca used to make him.”

“I’ll text Clint. He’ll get a kick out of making the card from us,” Natasha grinned, pulling out her phone to send the text to her boyfriend as she slipped from the car.

Bucky pulled out his phone to call TJ, but he smiled, anticipating being home on time that next morning. “Teej? Just checking in. Started another scene, but I don’t think I’ll be late. My boss said I could go home on time.”

“Gonna be here for my birthday, right, Buck?” TJ asked, sounding very awake and happy. “I got _seven_ hours, Buck. All by myself. No needle!”

“I know. You nap real well with me next to you, huh? Once you’re eighteen, you can talk to Loki and see if he’ll nap next to you, too. Then maybe you won’t ever need a needle.” Bucky slipped from his seat, nodding to Natasha. “Well, I gotta go catch a bad guy or I’d make a lousy Winter Soldier, huh?”

“Maybe we can watch the movie, Buck? On my birthday?” TJ asked.

Chuckling, Bucky reminded his little brother, “on your birthday, we can watch any movie you want. See you later, okay?”

“Okay, Buck, love you,” TJ responded happily.

“And I love you, more than anything else, baby. You’re my good TJ,” Bucky replied happily.

TJ’s excited, happy giggle came through the phone, “catch bad guys, Buck. Then come home for my birthday.”

“Have a good day, Teej. Be home as soon as I can. I’ll bring Natasha with me to your birthday.” Bucky hung up with a smile. Pocketing his phone, he sighed and walked over to the Medical Examiner as Natasha approached the first responder.

As he wrote down what the ME said about the victim, Bucky nodded and frowned. Something caught at the corner of his eyes and he excused himself. He stepped up to Natasha and said, “this isn’t a joint locale, right?”

“No,” Natasha answered, looking up at Bucky, “we’re pretty far into Brooklyn.”

Nodding, Bucky sighed, “it’s the crowd. So many people. I’m going to get started with the staff inside.”

“I still have about . . .” Natasha scanned the witnesses with a sigh, “thirty or so witnesses to interview. Think you’ll be okay?”

“Ask the first responders and a couple of beat cops to help. They’ll be able to get the basics for us,” Bucky said, without thinking about who was the senior officer on any force. He turned and headed towards the club’s door.


	7. And the World Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Severe Injury, Amnesia, Crime, Anxiety, Post Traumatic**

  
  


At first, the only thing registering on his senses was a steady soft beeping noise, slow and rhythmic. He thought it was a very odd background tone and couldn’t figure out why it felt so significant. Then the pain hit in a wash over his entire body and Bucky let out a gasp then moaned low in protest and pain. He forced open his eyes to a vast brightness and too much _white_ everywhere. That beeping had brought its brother along and a steady sound of a pump and bellows came to Bucky. He couldn’t think what _that_ could be and let his eyes roll sideways to see a breathing device sitting on a small table right next to him.

Confused, Bucky let out a loud whimper.

“Hey, Buck, it’s okay,” Steve’s voice came from right next to Bucky, his tone soothing and calm. “You’re in the hospital.”

“Huh?” Bucky rasped out and began coughing as he became aware of something blocking his throat.

A nurse ran in and began to sooth Bucky while another removed a feeding tube so he no longer gagged on it. NG tubes, feeding or otherwise, were rarely used on waking patients since they inevitably choked with the gag reflex.

Steve tried again, reaching out to carefully stroke Bucky’s hand, “you’re okay, Bucky. You’re in the hospital, but you’re okay.” The blond was dressed in a crisp blue button down and a pair of slacks, a jacket hung over the back of his chair.

“‘Os’tal?” Bucky rasped through a dry, scratchy throat. He blinked and tried to focus on Steve, but it was certainly difficult with those fuzzy edges and two more Steve’s trying to come into focus then grow fuzzy once more.

“Yes,” Steve confirmed with a nod, stroking again, “there was an explosion at the crime scene you and Natasha were at.” Though his tone was calm, Steve’s bright blue eyes held concern.

“Crime . . . scene?” Bucky rasped, closing his eyes then opening them. “What? TJ?” sudden concern warred with the confusion in Bucky’s tone, his body stiffening and causing more pain. A machine went off with an alarm and a soft whoosh, sending a regulated mini-dose of narcotics to the injured, confused man.

“TJ is . . . okay. Loki is with him, Bucky. Loki hasn’t left your apartment,” Steve assured the brunet. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t connected the dots on Bucky’s career. Bucky was a police officer and his new _partner_ had been Natasha.

“Loki’s _s’posed_ to be with Teej.” Bucky let the nurse give him more water and blinked up at her for a moment. Finally, he leaned back into his pillows. The nurse carefully power-raised the head of Bucky's bed for comfort then hurried off to tell the doctor that the patient was finally awake.

“Bucky . . . you’ve been unconscious for almost four days . . .” Steve reported, watching Bucky closely.

“No,” Bucky argued, frowning. “Only allowed four hours.”

Shaking his head, Steve said, “you went to work on August twelfth. The explosion happened on the twelfth. Today is the fifteenth of August, Buck, around eight at night.”

“Fifteenth?” Bucky’s eyes went from confused to worried, “no, TJ’s birthday . . .” he didn’t question the story of an explosion he couldn’t remember, just the time frame he was supposed to have been out of it. He couldn’t be out for _four days_! TJ needed him!

“TJ’s birthday passed, Buck,” Steve answered softly, looking sympathetic. “Loki’s been staying at the apartment. TJ hasn’t been left alone once, Buck.”

“But I have to be there for the party,” Bucky protested, as if by arguing he could turn back time he didn’t recall even passing. “TJ needs his birthday. It makes him happy.” Bucky reached over to push the covers back, revealing, to his horror, a catheter. He blinked at himself stupidly.

“Buck,” Steve stood and gently helped Bucky re-cover himself, “you’re going to be in the hospital for some time. You were hurt pretty bad.”

“Hurt?” Bucky blinked and looked to Steve, fear beginning to rise. “How? When? I . . . I don’t remember being hurt.”

Knowing that being honest with Bucky was best, Steve answered, “you took a nasty hit to the head . . . your left side took the brunt of the damage.” The blond’s blue eyes moved to look at the wrapped stump that remained of Bucky’s left arm.

“Someone hit my head?” Bucky asked, trying to remember and finding only blankness and pain. He put a hand to his head. “And hurt my left arm?” Bucky’s eyes shot down automatically to see the damage for himself and he paused. Something didn’t seem quite right, but Bucky couldn't quite place what.

“From what they can tell,” Steve answered, moving his eyes back to Bucky’s face, “you tried to get behind the door but it was too late.”

“Too late?” Bucky studied the bandaged shoulder, the small amount of left arm left behind. He blinked and turned his eyes back to Steve. “TJ’s safe? He wasn't hurt?” Worry ratcheted in Bucky’s raspy voice.

“He’s at home, no one hurt him,” Steve assured, taking Bucky’s right hand once more and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Another mini-dose slipped through Bucky’s system from the computer-regulated machine hooked to his IV. Bucky nodded then winced and whimpered, “owe . . . hit my head.”

The doctor came in with Bucky’s chart and a worried frown. He looked over Bucky, saying, “Mr. Barnes? I’m your current doctor, Bruce Banner. You might not remember me? You were unconscious for the most part.”

Bucky blinked at the stranger then turned his attention back to Steve. “I don’t remember.” Eyes widening, he added, sounding truly scared, “Stevie? I don’t remember anything. I . . . I was in the car and . . . nothing else.”

“Car? With who, Buck?” Steve gently coaxed, trying to figure out the last thing Bucky remembered clearly.

“With Natasha,” Bucky turned his eyes warily on Dr. Banner, who didn’t interrupt, merely checked the various machines and readouts. “My partner, Natasha. We talked about cards for TJ’s birthday?” That felt right and Bucky felt pretty certain it wasn’t a hazy dream after all, the conversation with Natasha.

Nodding, offering Bucky a gentle smile, Steve said, “that’s right, Buck. You and Nat talked about TJ’s birthday party on the way to the crime scene.”

“And there was a huge crowd . . . ‘bout thirty outside and . . .” Bucky blinked at the rising pain and fogginess in his brain. He couldn’t even recall what the club looked like inside, let alone how many people there were. “Robbery-homicide,” Bucky murmured. His right hand went to his head and he whimpered when the left didn’t respond.

“It’s okay, Buck, you’re doing good,” Steve assured with a smile, “don’t try to force it. Take it easy, okay?”

“Steve . . .” Bucky sounded worried, confused, and the beginnings of horrified, “I can’t remember the club. I got out of the car. I was on the phone with Teej. And I woke up here.” He glanced over as Dr. Banner pulled out a syringe and added a dose to his IV.

“It’s normal in head injuries, Buck, give it time, okay?” Steve tried to keep Bucky calm, glancing to the doctor and then back to the brunet in the bed. “You’ve remembered a lot already. You’re doing great.”

“Steve . . . they . . . they cut my arm off? Or did it blow off? Or . . .” Bucky had trouble focusing on one thing, as well as the headaches, confusion, and general pain he felt.

“They had to remove what was left of your left arm because it was very damaged, Buck. They did it to save your life,” Steve answered readily enough.

Glancing back at the bandaged stump and shoulder, Bucky nodded then hissed in pain, again touching his bandaged head. “And . . . TJ forgives me?”

“What is there to forgive?” Steve asked softly.

Bucky shook his head, ignoring the pain, almost feeling he deserved it, “for missing his birthday.”

“Buck, he’ll just be happy that you woke up,” Steve reassured the worried man. He didn’t want to tell Bucky that TJ had a breakdown when they’d told him the news about the explosion. Luckily, Loki had been there to deal with _that_.

“I need to call him,” anxiety raced through Bucky. “Need to tell him why I’m late?”

Nodding, Steve glanced over at Bruce, seeking the Doctor’s permission.

“He’s allowed to call his family,” Dr. Banner confirmed. “I think it will ease his brother a bit to hear his voice, too.”

Steve pulled out his own cell phone and dialed Loki’s number, putting the call on speaker so Bucky would be able to talk without needing to hold the device to his ear.

Loki’s voice came over the device, sounding exhausted and very worried, “Steve? You need something?”

“Is TJ available to talk? Bucky’s up and worried about him,” Steve explained.

“TJ?” Loki asked then paused for a moment, the soft sound of him walking heard over the line. “TJ, wake up, honey. Steve’s calling.”

“I don’t w - - want Steve,” TJ’s voice came through after several moments, sounding absolutely miserable.

“TJ?” Bucky called out, worried at his brother’s tone, at the fact that he couldn’t even remember the passing of four days.

“Buck? Buck?” TJ’s voice came through, an insistent, desperate quality to it.

“TJ, baby? It’s Bucky. I’m so sorry I was asleep so long!” Bucky felt the tears on his cheeks but didn't’ care. “Bucky loves TJ!”

“Buck?” TJ’s voice trembled and he let out a whimper, “come home now? You gonna c - - come home now?”

“I’m in a hospital bed, baby. I don’t think the doctor’s gonna let me leave yet. TJ, I love you so, so much. I’m so sorry this happened.” Bucky lifted his eyes to meet Steve’s, miserable to have put TJ through this, even if he’d had no control of things.

“But . . . but I want you home?” TJ insisted.

Loki’s voice offered, “if you go in the car, we can go visit Bucky, TJ.”

“No! No car!” TJ’s voice cut through the line, sounding borderline hysterical. “No. Buck’s gonna come home. He always comes home. H - - he calls if he’s gonna be late.”

“Loki,” Bucky tried to think past his own pain and confusion, “get Helen to see TJ at home? I’ll get out of the hospital as soon as they let me. Not sure when.”

“I’ll take care of things here, Bucky,” Loki assured the injured man. “TJ, did you want to talk to Bucky some more?”

“I want Buck home,” TJ said again, a bit more forcibly, “Buck, please? Please come home?”

Loki sighed and said, calmly, “Bucky is in the hospital. It’s up to his doctor when he comes home.”

“No, no, no. Buck doesn’t go into the hospital. Buck comes home,” TJ said, whimpering in fear, “Buck always c - - comes home.”

Bruce finally said, “if home health care can be arranged, he can go home by tonight.”

Bucky blinked then looked at Steve. “Loki’s already too busy. He takes care of TJ.”

Sighing softly, Steve looked at Bucky, sympathetically, “I’m not a nurse, Bucky. I wish I was so that I could help . . .”

Loki’s voice came over the line again, “Sam. My friend Sam is a nurse. Want me to call him?”

Bucky suddenly recalled his lack of funds and whimpered softly. “Can’t afford a nurse. My God, we can’t afford this hospital, either.”

Bruce sad, “workman’s comp. You were hurt on the job. It’s covering full medical while you recover as well as reduced wages while you can't work. That’s why we pay taxes, so cops and firemen get covered for injuries. You can afford the home nurse, since it’s the best environment for you to recover in.”

“Buck come home?” TJ asked over the line.

“I’m trying, TJ, I promise. I need another nurse to help me at home.” Bucky sighed and met Steve’s eyes, miserable and worried and in such confused pain. “Loki? Call Sam, your friend?”

“I’ll call and arrange everything. You work on getting discharged into his care,” Loki promised. “TJ, tell Bucky you’ll see him tonight, okay? I need to call Sam so he can help Bucky come home.”

“No, no, no. Last time I said goodbye he got blown up,” TJ said, sounding terrified, “not saying goodbye.”

“TJ, listen to me,” Loki’s voice firmed. “I did _not_ say to say goodbye. I _said_ to tell him you’ll see him tonight.”

“But, he said he’d see me later. Then he got blown up,” TJ pointed out, voice choking off in his fear.

“Ah,” Loki said. “I understand now. Okay, how about you say _I love you, Bucky_. And then that we’ll call him back in ten minutes?”

“Buck? Promise not to get blown up?” TJ asked.

“I promise to call in ten minutes,” Bucky replied. “Okay? Ten minutes like Loki said.”

“Ten minutes. Buck call in ten minutes,” TJ whimpered, sounding so much like he had when he’d been released from the hospital after his own accident.

“Okay, TJ, hang up and start counting?” Bucky asked, deliberately not saying _goodbye_.

“O - - okay,” TJ sounded like he sobbed but the line went dead as he obeyed his older brother.

Bruce nodded, “I’ll wait to get Sam’s call and begin the process. Let me organize the paperwork. You’ll also need physical therapy and to consider a prosthetic, Mr. Barnes.”

“Bucky. My name is Bucky,” the brunet answered. “And if Loki said ten minutes, he meant it.”

**************

The phone rang and Loki picked it up, turning it on speaker phone once more. “Hello,” he said.

Bucky’s voice came through, sounding tired and pained and fuzzy, as bad if not more than it had earlier. “TJ? It’s Bucky.”

TJ looked over, his cheeks flushed and wet with tears, “Buck? Ten minutes . . .”

“That’s right. It’s been ten minutes and I’m calling back. Bruce, my doctor, wants to know if Loki’s friend Sam will talk to him?” Bucky’s voice came out raspy still since he’d had that tube down his throat for four days.

“Yes,” Loki answered, relieved. “He’ll be calling the doctor at any time to arrange it.” Standing, Loki touched TJ’s left shoulder. “We’re getting your room ready for you to come home now, Bucky. Right, TJ? We're getting the beds switched so you can have the hospital bed and TJ the other one.”

“Yeah, you - - you can have my bed, Buck,” TJ said softly.

Bucky sounded thoughtful but tired, “maybe it’d be easier to switch rooms, TJ? You can have the big bedroom?”

TJ whimpered softly, looking up at Loki, his bloodshot pale blue eyes worried and full of fear.

“I think Bucky’s trying to be nice and let _us_ have the big bedroom, since there’s now two of us. Is that okay, TJ?”

“C - - can Luna and Bubbles move in to the big room, too?” TJ’s fingers played with the hem of his shirt.

Bucky sounded relieved, as if TJ had already agreed and taken a load off his mind, “TJ, you can swap all your stuff with mine, just leave the hospital bed in the little room, okay? I’m coming home tonight and I look forward to see how you decorate the little room for me.”

“I - - I can decorate, I - - I’ll leave the Captain America poster so that way you can feel safe, Buck,” TJ offered.

“Oh! Thank you, baby! That’s so nice of you! I really appreciate it,” Bucky replied.

Loki asked, out loud, “Bucky, should TJ and I get all clean for you coming home?”

As if he thought over that one, sounding slightly worried, Bucky said, “yeah, it’d be nice? That way we’re all clean and can rest.”

“Gotta decorate the room, Lucky,” TJ insisted.

“And after we decorate, we can shower. I’ll help decorate, okay?” Loki offered.

“O - - okay,” TJ agreed, “Buck? You sleep then come home? You sound sleepy.”

“I _am_ sleepy, Teej, thanks. I’ll be home tonight. And, TJ, you can call me here every hour okay? Check in on me like I check in on you from work? That’d be nice and make me feel better, hearing your voice?” Bucky sounded pained yet hopeful.

“Call Buck every hour,” TJ confirmed with a nod. “I’ll call Buck every hour.”

Loki knew that meant TJ would get little rest, but he’d put up with a tired, happy TJ over the miserable, terrified TJ of the last four days. “Set your alarm, TJ, so you can nap and still wake up on time,” Loki suggested.

“Alarm . . .” TJ nodded, setting up an alarm to go off every hour. “I won’t be late, Buck, I promise.”

“Good boy,” Bucky praised. “Nap between alarms after you decorate and eat and shower, okay? That way you don’t feel cranky and tired.”

“I - - I’ll nap for Buck,” TJ answered.

“I love you!” Bucky sounded fierce and loving. “Call me in an hour.”

“Love you, Buck. Call in one hour,” TJ confirmed and then hung up. He looked over at Loki, his pale eyes wide. The brunet’s normally soft, wild curls were limp and disheveled. His skin was pale and grimy. TJ hadn’t showered, had barely eaten anything, ever since Clint had come over to tell him the news of Bucky’s accident. “Gotta . . . gotta decorate Bucky’s room.”

Loki smiled. “Okay, so let’s go switch your stuff to the big room and Bucky’s to the little room. Then we’ll eat something and start decorating. Then we shower, okay, TJ? And whenever the alarm goes off, you call Bucky.”

TJ looked around his small room, his thin arms wrapping around his chest, hugging himself. The brunet walked over to the bed and, unwrapping his arms, shakily picked up Bubbles and Luna. He tried to move past his panic of moving rooms. He’d gotten used to _his_ room. Bucky’s room was so big and so _different_. And, it was _Bucky’s_ , not his. Bucky had always had the bigger room. He let out another soft whimper before turning to walk his beloved stuffed animals over to the larger of the rooms.

Loki smiled. He slipped a hand up TJ’s left arm from wrist to shoulder. “Do you want help, TJ, darling?”

“I - - I . . .” TJ worried at his bottom lip, his fingers brushing against Luna’s soft fur, “I want Bucky to come home.”

“My friend Sam is on the way to the hospital to go get Bucky, actually. So, he should be home tonight. Now, what do we really need to switch over? It’s not like you’ll be staying in Bucky’s room forever. Or do you want us to switch the beds, instead, and to keep the other room? We can do that, TJ.” Loki knew it’d be a lot of work, but it was important to help TJ stay as comfortable as possible; Bucky’s injuries would be a trauma in themselves once TJ saw the missing limb.

“I - - I . . . Buck wants the small room . . . I’m gonna let Captain America watch over him,” TJ answered softly.

“TJ, Bucky wants the bed from that room, not the room. Okay?” Loki said. “So, if we move the bed, he’ll go in his room and Captain America can watch over you. We can get him another hero to watch over him?”

TJ hugged his stuffed animals closer; he shook his head and let out a soft whimper, “I - - I want . . . I want Buck. I want . . . want Buck to be happy. I don’t - - I don’t . . .”

Nodding, Loki hugged TJ carefully and pulled out his phone, dialing Steve’s number. “Well, why don’t we ask if he wants the bed or the room more?” He put the phone on speaker.

“No, no!” TJ shook his head, “it’s not an hour yet! Not an hour!”

Loki met TJ’s eyes and hung up the phone. “You’re right, not an hour.” He pocketed the phone and walked into Bucky’s large room. “Okay, so when we call after the hour’s done, we can ask, okay? For now, why don’t we make sure the bathrooms are both clean. Want to shower now while we wait for the hour to end?”

TJ ran his fingers through his hair, the stuffed animal brushing against his curls. He tugged lightly at his dirtied curls, “Buck. Buck needs to come home.”

“And you want to be clean when he comes home, right? Not to have to get a shower after he comes home tonight? You can spend more time with him if you bathe now,” Loki pointed out, smiling gently, tone reasonable and calm.

“Clean now . . . clean now so I can be with Buck . . .” TJ nodded slowly.

“Okay, put Luna and Bubbles on Bucky’s bed so they can rest. We’ll use Bucky’s bathroom, okay?” Loki turned the light on in the bathroom where occasionally TJ and Bucky would shower together.

“O - - okay . . .” TJ whimpered, setting Bubbles and Luna on the bed.

“Does TJ want Loki in the shower, too?” Loki offered.

“Bucky . . . Buck showers with me sometimes. Want - - want Buck home,” TJ whimpered, wrapping his arms around himself.

With a nod, Loki guided TJ to the shower and began trying to get his shirt off him, carefully. “Okay, Loki won’t shower, too. Just TJ. When Bucky comes home you can bathe with Bucky again, okay?”

“I’m - - I’m bad. Bad - - bad,” TJ whimpered again, raking his fingers through his hair again.

Loki stopped and tilted his head slightly, looking TJ over. “TJ, why do you think you’re bad?”

“Car rolls over and over. Angels take Momma and Daddy and Becca. Buck . . . Buck gets blown up - -” TJ ducked his head, fingers tightening in his hair.

Loki asked, very serious sounding, “TJ . . . did you make a bomb and blow up Bucky?”

“Buck left. Buck left and got blown up.” TJ’s voice trembled.

“Bucky,” Loki reached over and lifted TJ’s chin with a finger, meeting his eyes, “went to work, like he always does on Thursday. Right?”

“No, no, no,” TJ shook his head, “he got blown up. I - - I . . . he’s late. I want Bucky to . . . to come home.”

“TJ, take off your shirt,” Loki had unbuttoned it around his arms then finished when TJ grabbed at his own hair. His voice remained calm. “Now.”

Keening softly in distress, TJ did as he was told, slipping off his shirt with shaky hands. “I - - I . . . I get clean for Buck.”

“Good boy,” Loki praised, smiling. “Clean for when Bucky comes home tonight. Now, let’s get the pants off, please.” Loki helped the young man with his trousers. “And the underpants, too, TJ. All clean.”

“All - - all clean,” TJ nodded slowly, slipping out of his pants and underwear. “Not . . . not bad - -”

Loki guided TJ into the shower. “TJ’s being a very good boy. Not bad at all,” Loki praised. He ran the water and, staying dressed, began to help TJ to wash in the shower, standing mostly in the shower doorway.

“And . . . and Buck’s coming home?” TJ whimpered, just staying still under the water, allowing Loki to clean him up.

“Yes, TJ. Bucky’s coming home tonight. Sam and Steve will bring him home.” Loki didn’t complain about the extra work of bathing the man, glad to be able to finally get him to agree to it. After fifteen minutes, Loki rinsed TJ and turned off the water. He handed TJ a big fluffy towel. “Dry yourself? It’ll be time to call Bucky soon. Need to dry, okay?”

“Dry . . . dry,” TJ nodded, taking the towel from Loki and starting to dry off his body with it. “Buck come home. Buck come home and everything will be ‘kay.”

“Good boy, TJ.” Once TJ had dried enough, Loki led him, nude, to TJ’s room. “Okay, put on your pajamas, TJ, darling. And I’ll get into some clothes, too.” He started peeling off the soaked clothes he’d been wearing.

TJ started pulling on a pair of his pajamas: a pair of soft sweats and a t-shirt. His dark curls hung almost in his eyes. “Lucky? Buck come home and everything will be okay, right?”

“Bucky’s been hurt, TJ, so we’ll need to help him, okay? Help him like he helps you. Won’t it be nice to finally help him back?” Loki smiled gently at the eighteen year old. He took a pair of TJ’s sweats and a shirt and put them on, skipping underwear just like TJ had. “Okay, now we’re clean, is it time to call Bucky?”

TJ looked at the clock in his room and nodded, “call Buck. At one hour.”

“When you call, ask if he wants the little room or the bed more, okay?” Loki prompted, dialing Steve’s number once more and putting the phone on speaker.

“O - - okay,” TJ nodded, watching the phone in Loki’s hand intently.

“Loki?” Steve answered.

“Steve? Can you put Bucky on for TJ? I’ve got you on speaker,” Loki looked at TJ with a smile.

“Yeah, sure,” Steve answered and then said, gently, “Bucky? It’s TJ.”

“Speaker phone?” Bucky could be heard in the background.

There was some fumbling before Steve said, “on speaker.”

“TJ? It’s Bucky, baby. You okay?” Bucky sounded tired but a bit more alert than he had an hour before.

“G - - got clean for you, Buck,” TJ called out, arms wrapping around himself again.

“Oh, what a good TJ! My best brother,” Bucky called, sounding pleased if tired. “Must feel better to be clean again, huh?”

“I just want Buck home,” TJ said.

“Good news, TJ. I met Sam and he’s gonna be my nurse. He’s talking with the doctor right now about how to care for me. The doctor said I should be able to go home in four more hours. So, I’ll be home in four and a half,” Bucky said, his voice sounding encouraging.

“Four and a half hours,” TJ repeated with a soft sniffle, “Buck? You want the bed or . . . or the small room more?”

Pausing then sounding surprised, Bucky said, “the bed, TJ. I don’t want your room if you want it. Okay? I just thought it’d be easier not to have to move the beds. But . . . I want the bed. Is that okay, TJ?”

“Want the bed,” TJ looked up at Loki, pale eyes wide.

Nodding, Loki smiled, “then we’ll switch the beds, okay?”

“Move beds. Move beds for Buck to come home,” TJ confirmed.

“TJ, baby?” Bucky said, “I’d come home even if I didn’t get the bed, okay? I’m coming home because I love TJ.”

“Gotta make Buck happy so he comes home,” TJ said, moving over to the bed and pulling at it, as if trying to move it all by himself.

“TJ, come take the phone. Aren’t you talking to Bucky?” Loki called.

Looking over, TJ met Loki’s eyes and said, “but . . . but gotta move the beds so Buck comes home.”

“After you’re done talking on the phone, TJ. He will come home even if the bed isn’t moved yet.” Loki walked over and handed TJ his phone. “Bucky promised.”

“Buck . . . Buck promised . . .” TJ blinked slowly and looked at the bed then back to Loki. He took the phone with a shaky hand, “you promised, Buck?”

Loki went to pick up the landline and call Clint, to ask him and Natasha for help switching the beds.

“Yes, baby, I promise. I’m coming home in just over four hours. Even if the beds aren’t switched yet. You going to make me a get well card?” Bucky suggested.

“I - - I can do that, Buck! And - - and I think I can sleep in your room . . . the bed is _really_ heavy,” TJ said, looking over at Loki and then back at the phone.

“We’ll figure out the bed thing, then, TJ. I want a get well card more than that. A special one made by my special TJ. Okay?” Bucky yawned.

“I’ll draw the Winter Soldier on it, Buck! The Winter Soldier with a _wolf_. It’ll be the _best_ card ever!” TJ said, finally smiling.

“I know it will,” Bucky replied. “Gonna call me in another hour, right?”

“One hour,” TJ said with a nod, “call Buck in one hour.” TJ hung up again, not giving his brother a chance to say goodbye.

Loki had ended the landline call for aid as well and took his phone back. “Hungry, TJ? You can bring your art things to the table and we’ll have something that won’t mess it up okay? Grilled cheese?”

“Okay,” TJ nodded, gathering up some of his art supplies that he kept in his room. “Lucky? I - - I think I can sleep in Bucky’s room . . . jus’ - - jus’ for a little bit, right?”

“Right, but if it’s okay, Clint and Natasha are on the way over to try to help move the heavy beds. If they can’t get them moved, we’ll let you sleep in Bucky’s room for a little.” Loki smiled and helped TJ with his supplies, heading for the kitchen. Allowing TJ to fuss with placing his stuff they way he wanted, Loki began preparing half a grilled cheese for each of them.

TJ started to very carefully make his card, trying his best to make everything look good for his brother. After only a couple minutes, TJ shook his head with a whimper, pushing the work he’d already done on the first card aside so it fluttered off the table.

Loki put the plate with half a sandwich near TJ’s hand. “Need some help, darling? I can help steady your hands, if you let me touch them.”

“Not right,” TJ shook his head.

Nodding, Loki went to the laptop and searched quickly through some of the coloring pictures Bucky had created. He pulled up two and printed them off. Bringing over a picture of a wolf and another of the Winter Soldier, both needing coloring, Loki put them down and said, “will this help?”

“But - - but can’t put them on a _card_. Buck wants a card,” TJ looked at the two images Loki had printed out.

Nodding, Loki took several pieces of the card stock and carefully punched holes in them. He then pointed to the colored yarn TJ had. “Once you’re done coloring and marking each page, we tie them together in a get well book. Won’t that be great?”

Looking at the images and then the pieces of card stock, TJ grinned and nodded happily.

“So, we carefully tape these images to card stock,” and Loki did that for TJ to line them up carefully as well as not put tape over the parts TJ would color. “There, all ready to color and then to write your get well wishes on the blank pages then we can tie them together in any order you want for a booklet.” Loki leaned close, “my boyfriend the writer of a book!” Loki sat down to eat his own food, watching TJ.

“I’m a writer, Lucky!” TJ nodded, taking a bite of his sandwich and then picking up a crayon to color the page.

Loki stopped TJ before he could mark the picture. “Want to try colored pencils? If you make a mistake, you can erase it,” Loki suggested the more adult colored pencils that Bucky often used.

Blinking, TJ looked up at Loki, “you . . . I can use the pencils? Really?”

Nodding, Loki walked over to the stack of gifts and picked out one from him. He brought it over to TJ. “Here, it’s so you can make Bucky’s get well book.”

Shaking his head, TJ said, “can’t - - can’t open the presents. Not without Buck. Buck’s always here when I open presents.”

Nodding, Loki said, “do you want me to get Bucky’s pencils for you?” He put the present back, not trying to argue his point.

TJ looked at the presents, scrunching up his nose and then looking away. They hadn’t been able to celebrate TJ’s birthday at all, the eighteen year old too upset to even leave his room. “But . . . the pencils are Buck’s?”

“And that one present holds TJ pencils,” Loki pointed out. “I don’t think Bucky will mind one present, do you? It’ll be the only one, and it’s so TJ can make Bucky’s card-book.” Loki sounded reasonable as he headed for the door to unlock it for Clint and Natasha.

TJ’s pale eyes moved to look at the presents again, he slowly nodded, not looking very happy. “O - - okay . . . just one.”

Loki walked back in. “I can get TJ a new gift, wrapped, to replace that one? Will that be better?”

“Don’t want any presents . . .” TJ murmured softly, worrying at his bottom lip. He reached out to pick up his sandwich and take another bite. “Don’t want any presents ever again.”

“Why don’t you want presents, TJ? Presents didn’t make the bomb hurt Bucky,” Loki turned to face his boyfriend.

“Don’t want birthday ever again. No birthday. No presents,” TJ shook his head.

Loki frowned softly, “TJ, why not?”

“Birthday is a _bad_ day,” TJ said softly.

“No it’s not,” Loki countered. “Your birthday is one of Bucky’s favorite days of the year. He loves getting you presents and watching you open them.”

“No!” TJ shook his head, his fingers twitching on the table, “birthday is _bad_. Buck got hurt. Never want it to be my birthday _ever_ again.”

Loki shook his head, “TJ, that’s fine if you don’t want birthdays, but it’s not because of your birthday that Bucky got hurt. It’s because of a bad man with a bomb who the cops will catch. And you can’t stop August thirteen coming again next year, whether you have presents or not.”

Whimpering, TJ closed his eyes and his fingers tapped against the table again. “Jus’ wanted Buck to come home. Didn’t . . . didn’t want him to get hurt. Jus’ wanted him to come home early.”

Stepping over to TJ, Loki petted his curls. “And Bucky knows that, darling. He knows you wouldn’t hurt him, ever. Bucky’s coming home today. A few more hours and he’ll be here.”

“I hurt Buck. I put in my wish book that I wanted him to get off early . . . because it was my birthday . . .” TJ whimpered softly.

“You didn’t hurt Bucky, TJ. A wish book is a good thing, it doesn't hurt people. You wanted him to get off early, but a bad guy wanted to hurt him. He canceled your wish. It’s the bad guy’s fault.” Loki continued to stroke TJ’s damp curls.

“Bad, bad, bad,” TJ murmured, keeping his eyes closed.

“TJ,” Loki’s tone took on a warning note, “you are not bad. Remember? You are a good boy who makes Bucky proud. He told you so and Bucky doesn’t lie.”

Clint and Natasha arrived and Loki glanced over, “need to switch beds so Bucky has the other one.” He then went back to petting TJ’s curls. “Remember? Bucky loves you. You weren’t bad.”

Opening his eyes to look at Loki, TJ whimpered and said, “gotta make Buck’s card. Buck wants a card.”

Nodding, Loki smiled, “yes, you do.” He went to get Bucky’s colored pencils and white eraser. Handing them to TJ, he said, “we can get him new ones later, okay? Just use Bucky’s pencils and eraser right now, TJ.”

Sniffling softly, TJ nodded and took the supplies, starting to carefully color the two images that Loki had printed out. The eighteen year old concentrated fully on his task, his grilled cheese left mostly uneaten.

Loki placed his phone beside TJ so he could call Bucky when the time was right. He then went to help switch the beds. It took the better part of that hour but eventually both beds we swapped and Clint was putting Bucky’s bed back together again. No one had dared take apart TJ’s hospital bed, so it had been moved in its entirety. With a thankful sigh, Loki said, “thank you so much! Come on in for drinks and food when you're done.” He headed into the kitchen.

TJ had finished the wolf page by then and was working on the Winter Soldier one. He barely looked up at the others as they came into the kitchen.

Clint happily sat and took the water Loki offered. He glanced over to what TJ did and asked, “hey, TJ, what's that? A wolf? Beautiful!”

“It’s for Buck’s get-well book,” TJ said softly, switching from the black colored pencil to a grey one.

“A get well book?” Clint asked, “that sounds cool. I’ve never had one of those. Not special enough I guess. And that’s the Winter Soldier, right?”

“Uh huh,” TJ nodded, working on coloring the Winter Soldier’s arm. “Want it to be just right for Buck.”

Clint looked at Natasha then back to TJ. He waited until TJ changed pencils so he wasn’t actively coloring then said, “did they tell you what parts of Bucky are hurt, TJ?”

“A bomb blew him up,” TJ said softly, his nose scrunching up again before relaxing.

“Yes, and because his arm was hurt so bad it couldn’t be fixed,” Clint stroked a light finger over the picture TJ colored, “the doctor had to operate and take the rest of Bucky’s arm away.”

Stiffening, TJ looked up at Clint, his pale eyes confused and horrified, “not uh. They couldn’t take Buck’s arm. Buck’s gonna come home and everything is gonna be okay ‘gain.”

“It will, but not right away, TJ,” Clint said, voice gentle. “Bucky’s hurt and needs to heal. And they did take his arm, just like the people in the movie took the Winter Soldier’s arm from him. But these doctors were nicer about it. They took good care of Bucky.”

“No. Buck’s okay. I heard him on the phone,” TJ insisted again.

“Of course he’s okay,” Loki said calmly, smiling at TJ. “You don’t need two arms to be okay, TJ. But he _will_ need TJ to help him for a bit.”

Shaking his head again, TJ frowned, “ _no_. Buck’s okay. They didn’t take his arm. He’s gonna come home like he always does.”

Loki sighed and shook his head, “why do you think we’re lying, TJ? Would we lie to you?”

“Because,” TJ pushed away from the table, “you’re being _mean_. You’re a mean boyfriend,” the brunet turned and ran out of the kitchen, followed by a door being slammed shut.


	8. Coming Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Anxiety, Pain, Fear, Medical Treatment, Stalking, Post Traumatic**

“Are . . . are we sure bringing Bucky home this soon is the best thing?” Natasha asked, looking over at Loki with a worried frown.

"Maybe not the best idea, but Bucky and TJ are both stressed out by being separated. TJ's just back sliding, and Bucky won’t get any better as long as they’re both going through this separation anxiety.” Loki picked up the art supplies and put them carefully away then took TJ’s uneaten food and disposed of it. “Once Bucky gets home, TJ’s going to have to deal with the arm loss and the memory issues they reported. I think, once TJ understands that Bucky needs him quite a bit, TJ will come around.”

Sighing, Natasha ran her fingers through her hair. She looked over at Clint and then back at Loki, “how are you holding up? You’ve gone four days without a break.”

“Exhausted,” Loki answered honestly. “Managed to convince TJ to bathe today, though. So a plus. Thank God, Bucky agreed to hire on a full time nurse for himself.”

“And what are you going to do? You can’t keep working twenty-four seven,” Natasha said, meeting Loki’s eyes.

“Me? I plan to sleep when I can, maybe even help Sam out by taking alternate shifts for both TJ and Bucky. It depends. Right now, though, I’m waiting for TJ to drift off again so _I_ can get some sleep.” Loki ran a hand through his own braided hair, the strands beginning to pull loose.

“Is there anything else we can do?” Natasha asked. She felt horrible that Bucky had been so severely hurt while she had been completely uninjured.

“If you’re for staying on until Bucky gets back in a few hours, I’d appreciate it. Then I can get some sleep and you’ll be here to field things. Maybe even TJ will fall asleep, but I know it’s nightmare territory. I don’t want to sedate him before he sees Bucky, though.” Loki sighed and shook his head.

“You’ve had to sedate him over the last few days?” Natasha asked.

“Ever since Bucky was injured,” Loki met her eyes. “Right now his attention span is less than five minutes, too. He keeps believing Bucky will never come home. If it wasn’t for Bucky waking today and using the phone, I would have had a very hard time keeping TJ convinced he was even alive and not just a ghost on the second floor of his old house with his family. So, despite how much Bucky could use the in-hospital care, TJ needs him here. And Bucky would rather have that.” Loki sounded tired, drained.

“And what are we going to do when TJ see’s how injured Bucky is?” Natasha questioned with a soft frown.

Loki answered promptly, “instruct TJ how to help care for his brother so he feels useful and in better control.”

Natasha nodded, looking over the exhausted nurse, “did you want to try and get some sleep? Clint and I can keep an eye on TJ.”

“Yes, please. Try to get him to eat a bite or two. He only took one bite of his grilled cheese. Keep him focused on the book he’s making. And he’s supposed to call Bucky every hour.” Loki offered a smile and headed for TJ’s room. “When he starts yawning, tell him to _nap_ not sleep. Sleep is a scary word. That you promise to wake him up for the next phone call.” Loki looked at them, “and then wake him up for the next phone call. He’ll trust you more if you don’t break your word.”

“Okay, we can handle that,” Natasha nodded, looking to Clint.

“We can do that,” Clint agreed. He followed Loki to the bedroom but stayed respectfully in the hall.

Loki walked in. “TJ, darling?”

TJ lay on his bed, curled up with his back to the door. “Mean,” he murmured, hugging Bubbles and Luna closer to his chest.

“TJ, have I ever lied to you before?” Loki asked softly, staying in the doorway.

TJ shook his head, “no . . .”

“And why would I ever want to start lying to you now? I told you about Bucky’s arm so you can help take care of him,” Loki pointed out gently, his manner calm.

Shaking his head again, TJ whimpered, “but . . . Buck’s ‘kay. He’s coming home. He’s coming home and everything will be okay again.”

Loki said gently, “TJ, darling, Bucky is coming home because he needs you to help him get better. He woke up and now wants to see you very much. He won’t be going to work for a long time because he’s hurt. Can you help him get better?”

Sniffling, TJ burrowed his face in Luna, his hands trembling, “I don’t want Bucky to be blown up.”

Nodding, Loki walked in and sank on the foot of the bed, touching TJ’s ankle. “Yeah, neither do I. It will be a lot of work helping Bucky get better. And he’s going to be in pain. Like when you first woke up. And he helped and cared for you.”

“But, I’m not Buck. I’m stupid and bad and can’t help anyone. I just get them blown up,” TJ croaked, keeping his face in the stuffed animal.

Loki sat beside TJ’s hip and stroked his hair. “If you were bad, I wouldn’t be your boyfriend and nurse, TJ. And you aren’t stupid. You’re making Bucky a get well book and calling every hour. Stupid people can’t do that. And,” Loki leaned in close, as if telling a secret, “if you blew Bucky up, he wouldn’t want to talk to you on the phone, right? He doesn’t talk to that bad boyfriend he used to have, right?”

“But, it’s my fault! I wanted him to come home early and he got blown up! He got blown up and the doctors took his arm!” TJ sobbed softly.

“TJ, he was going to come home early. His boss said he could,” Loki revealed. “But the bad guy blew him up before he could leave the club. If he’d not tried to come home early, Natasha and he would have been dead.” Loki knew that wasn’t the precise events, but TJ needed to hear that his request may have saved Bucky, not hurt him. “The bomb wasn’t at the door, darling, it was further inside the club. Bucky lived because he was leaving, right?”

“He shoulda stayed home. Shoulda stayed, then he wouldn’t have got blown up,” TJ murmured, his thin body trembling.

“Yeah,” Loki agreed. “He shoulda stayed home instead.” Loki lay down behind TJ on the bed, hand still on the other man’s shoulder. “Wanna rest now, TJ? Or wanna work on Bucky’s book for him?”

“Gotta . . . gotta finish the book,” TJ said softly, his fingers stroking Luna’s soft fur.

Loki nodded, “okay, darling. You can get up and work on the book. Mind if I nap here in your nice bed?”

“You . . . you can nap,” TJ nodded, slowly slipping from the bed. The brunet looked exhausted himself, unable to get any real sleep for the past four days without being sedated.

“Thank you, darling. You’re such a good boyfriend to let me nap. If you want to nap with me, I’d like that.” Loki made a show of yawning, eyes drooping shut. “Clint and Natasha are here if you want help with anything. Don’t forget to call Bucky in forty-five minutes.”

“Call Buck in forty-five minutes,” TJ confirmed with a nod, turning to walk out of the room. He headed right back to the dining table, sitting in his chair. He picked up the red colored pencil to begin coloring the page once more.

Clint headed to the kitchen. He put dry cereal in a bowl, making sure it was a sweet kind, and put the bowl near TJ. Sitting down, he asked, “can I use paper and crayons while you do the book, TJ?”

“Okay,” TJ said softly, once more focusing solely on his coloring pages.

“Thanks,” Clint nodded and took some blank paper and the crayons TJ had abandoned for Bucky’s pencils. He began drawing with the crayons, doing a thicker outline in each color then very lightly coloring inside the chosen outlines with the same color. Almost absently, Clint put a spoon handle in TJ’s hand he wasn’t coloring with and guided the hand towards the bowl of dry cereal.

Blinking, TJ looked at the bowl of cereal and then at Clint.

Smiling at TJ, Clint said, “no milk, so it won’t splash. You can nibble a bit while you color and write. Might help that rumbly tumbly I keep hearing.” His tone sounded friendly and cheerful.

“But . . . hafta finish the book,” TJ insisted.

Nodding, Clint said, “watch this, TJ.” He still guided TJ’s hand to scoop up some cereal and moved it to TJ’s mouth. “Take this bite, okay? Then color while you chew.”

Hesitantly, TJ took the offered bite and, while he chewed the dry cereal, he continued to color. He didn’t know how Clint had figured out his favorite sweet cereal, but he felt glad for it.

After two full minutes of coloring, Clint said, “okay, another bite and color while you chew.” He again helped TJ, knowing it was the man’s non-dominant hand that held the spoon.

TJ did as he was told, taking a bite whenever Clint told him to. They did this again and again until TJ had finished the bowl of dry cereal.

Nodding, Clint got a plastic cup of chocolate milk and brought it over, complete with the covered lid that helped TJ not spill. “Okay, now, we do the milk. It’ll mix in the tummy and make food so you don’t have to say you were only snacking, right?”

“Okay,” TJ agreed readily enough, taking a sip from the cup of milk.

Clint again repeated the same slow, patient process of aiding TJ in lifting the cup with the non-dominant hand every two minutes to sip more milk until the cup was empty. “Ah, a full meal. How’s that tummy now, Teej?”

“It feels good. Thank you,” TJ answered, grabbing another pencil.

Nodding, Clint said, “when Bucky’s home, maybe you can help him eat, too? Until he gets his cool new Winter Soldier arm.”

“Don’t want Buck to have a new arm. Want him to have his old arm,” TJ frowned softly.

“Hmmm, yeah, that’d be nice. Not sure how. I’m not a doctor.” Clint checked his watch then put his phone in front of TJ. “Time to call Bucky, TJ. You still want to call Bucky?”

“Call Bucky,” TJ nodded, looking at Clint’s phone.

Clint dialed the number of Steve’s phone and put it on speaker. He smiled at TJ. Once he got through to the blond, he said, “TJ for Bucky? Is that okay?”

“Yeah, give me a moment,” Steve said. There was the sound of a door opening and then Steve calling, “Bucky? It’s TJ.”

“Teej?” Bucky’s sleep-roughened voice sounded, adding to the rasp the tube had caused. “Yeah, ‘m here.”

“Doesn’t sound like Buck,” TJ murmured, looking over at Clint with a frown.

Chuckling, Clint said, “he was napping, silly. Everyone sounds raspy after napping. Even you do!”

“Not uh,” TJ argued, looking back at the phone. “I sound like me. Doesn’t sound like Buck.”

“TJ? Baby?” Bucky called out, cleared his throat, and tried again. “Teej?”

Clint smiled. “Can you Skype on that phone, Steve? So TJ can see Bucky?”

“Don’t . . .” TJ whimpered and shook his head, “want Buck to come home . . . he come home now. Right?”

“Two and a half more hours,” Bucky said, his voice regaining a modicum of his normal tones.

“But, I want Bucky home now.” TJ wrapped his arms around himself.

“TJ,” Bucky said, sounding concerned, “we agreed. The doctor is letting me go with Sam in two hours, so I’ll be home in two and a half, right?”

TJ whimpered and hung his head, still holding himself, “okay . . . two - - two and a half more hours . . .”

“You wanna talk some more to me, baby? You sound like you want a nap until an hour so you can call back,” Bucky sounded coaxing and sleepy, the medicine for his pain doing it’s job. The doctor had arranged for the new nurse, Sam Wilson, to also arrange a PCA pump, or automatic medicine control system, to go home with Bucky for the first few weeks.

“Want Buck to be home. Don’t want Buck upstairs,” TJ said softly, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t want Buck upstairs with Momma, Daddy, and Becca.”

Bucky sounded suddenly happy. “Oh, I won’t be going upstairs with them for a very long time, TJ. I even fought a bomb so I can come home in two and a half hours. Okay? Bucky loves TJ so, so much.”

“Okay,” TJ sniffled, wiping at his eyes again. “Two and a half hours.”

“Are you making me a get well card, Teej?” Bucky reminded his little brother.

“Yeah, I’m making it,” TJ answered, “I promise.”

“And did TJ get to eat some food?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, I ate cereal,” TJ replied.

“Good boy, TJ. I’m looking forward to being home again. Call back in an hour, baby. Okay?” Bucky sounded sleepy once more, the brief spurt of happy energy drained.

“Okay. Call back in a hour,” TJ said and then ended the call. The brunet frowned softly and looked down at the mostly done coloring pages on the table.

Clint turned off his phone. “What’s wrong, TJ? Something I can help with?”

“Want Buck home,” TJ murmured, picking up the last color he needed to finish up the Winter Soldier picture.

  
  


“Two and a half hours is better than four and a half, right?” Clint reminded TJ. He glanced over towards Natasha, still smiling. “Right?”

“Right,” Natasha agreed with a nod.

TJ shrugged one shoulder, looking down at the picture as he finished coloring in the last section. He scrunched up his nose, hands clenching and then relaxing.

“Ready to write _‘Get Well, Bucky’_ on it?” Clint asked.

Scrunching his nose again, TJ shook his head, “don’t want Buck to get well. Want Buck to be okay.”

“Okay,” Clint temporized. “Do you want to write _‘Bucky, be okay’_ on it?”

Scrunching his nose once more, TJ pushed away the card with a shaky hand, not ruining the images.

“What’s the matter, TJ, honey?” Clint asked patiently.

“Don’t want this. Don’t want it,” TJ whimpered.

Clint reached over and picked up the pages and stood, heading to the trash can. “Want me to throw away Bucky’s book?” he asked.

Eyes snapping up, going wide in horror and filling with tears, TJ shook his head frantically, “no! Don’t - - don’t throw it away! It’s for Buck!”

“Oh, thought you didn't’ want it. I heard wrong.” Clint walked back with a smile and carefully laid the papers in front of TJ. “I’m sorry. I have bad hearing. See?” He turned his head and pointed to a purple hearing aid.

TJ took the pages and held them close, watching Clint warily. He looked at the hearing aid and then looked back down, still clutching the papers, wrinkling them a bit as he held them to his chest.

“Why don’t you smooth those out and let Natasha help you tie them together into a book? You can write whatever you want on it. Natasha’s good at writing, right Natasha?” Clint looked over.

Natasha nodded, holding out her hand for the papers from TJ, “I”m a very good writer.”

Handing them over, still watching Clint, TJ said with a frown, “okay. Don’t let Clint throw them away.”

“How about I _promise_ never to throw away Bucky’s book, even if you tell me to? You have to throw it away instead?” Clint asked.

TJ frowned and shook his head, he then turned to watch as Natasha carefully smoothed out the pictures and put them together for the makeshift book. He scrunched up his nose and ran his trembling fingers through his drying curls. “Don’t throw away Buck’s book. It’s for Buck. Not for Clint to throw away.”

“Okay, Clint doesn't throw away _any_ books, just in case. Promise.” Clint held up both hands, palms out in a gesture of surrender.

TJ watched Clint for several moments before slipping from the chair and walking out of the room to go sit on the couch.

With a very soft sigh, Clint looked at Natasha. “Do we put in a movie for him?”

“I don’t know,” Natasha answered, finishing putting the book together.

“Hats off to Loki and Bucky for figuring these things out every day.” Clint walked into the living room and smiled. “So, what does TJ have planned now?”

“Wait for Buck to come home. Lucky’s napping. I wait for Buck to come home,” TJ looked up at Clint with a soft frown, obviously not yet over the blond almost throwing away the pictures he’d colored.

Nodding, Clint said, “okay.” He walked back into the kitchen, waited for Natasha to finish tying the book together, then took it with a smile for his girlfriend. He walked back in the living room and put the book on the coffee table. “There, all ready for Bucky.”

**************

Bucky sighed as he climbed out of the uber van, watching as Steve and Sam got his IV situated on the pole hooked to the wheelchair they would help him into. He leaned heavily on the driver, Scott, for a moment or two then gladly let Sam switch him to the chair. “Steve, you sure this will work? I can’t make those steps . . . at least not without help. I’m still wobbly.” He’d been fortunate that his legs and pelvis had been uninjured in the blast. Bucky could walk perfectly if he could just get his balance.

Steve offered Bucky a smile, “it’ll work. Sam and I will help you.”

Not even nodding since it hurt his head and neck, Bucky verbally agreed, “okay.” He eyed the house, as if looking to see if TJ stood waiting by a window. “I hope he’s going to be okay soon. It’s going to be a shock seeing me since he refused to Skype.”

Sighing softly, Steve nodded, glancing at the house and then back to Bucky. Personally, Steve thought Bucky should still be in the hospital. The man had gotten his arm amputated four days before. Steve had never heard of someone going through that much trauma and then going home within a week. He also didn’t know if Bucky having to deal with TJ while trying to heal would be the best thing, either. “He’s going to have to be, Buck . . .” Steve said softly.

“Well, he wanted me home. I’m here,” Bucky said as Sam, an attractive, athletic dark-skinned man, took the handles of his wheelchair and began pushing it towards Steve’s home. Scott carried supplies for the trio since Steve and Sam would both be needed to get Bucky settled upstairs. Scott had helped this family for years, but he thought Bucky had more than just temporary memory issues this time; the man needed to stay in a hospital and heal!

“Are you sure that you don’t want another few days in the hospital, Bucky?” Steve questioned, looking back at the brunet in the wheelchair.

Grimacing, Bucky said, “can’t. I told TJ today. I already broke one promise to come home on time. Not breaking this one, too.”

“Bucky, you . . . you just had major surgery. You should be focusing on getting yourself better,” Steve said, meeting Bucky’s eyes. The blond looked extremely worried.

Without realizing that TJ could hear from the open door at the top of the steps, Bucky said, “and if I concentrate on healing, who’ll take care of TJ? If I stay in the hospital like I’m supposed to? I won’t let TJ suffer, Steve. I love him!”

“And if you get worse? How is that helping TJ?” Steve tried a different approach.

Sighing, Bucky said, “it’d be different if he’d Skype or let someone drive him to the hospital to visit, but he refuses, doesn’t he? Instead, he won’t eat or bathe or nap. He’s killing himself and I can stop that by coming home.”

“I could be his day nurse and you go back to the hospital,” Sam offered. “You really need a lot of rest, Bucky.”

Glancing at Sam, giving the man a nod, Steve looked back down at Bucky once more, “TJ will be taken care of, Bucky. It’s time you focused on yourself for once. You won’t be any help to him if you hurt yourself worse by rushing this.”

“TJ needs to see I’m okay,” Bucky insisted, sounding a lot like his brother without even knowing.

Sam offered, “let him come downstairs to see you’re alive. Then you go back to the hospital and Skype with him back and forth every day. TJ’s a man, and he loves you, right? He’ll see you need to rest where someone can make sure you get your medicine and therapy and bandages changed.”

A soft whimper came from the top of the stairs as TJ looked down at Bucky in the wheelchair, his eyes wide as he took in his brother’s battered form. “Buck?” TJ called, seeming frozen.

Scott put down the stuff he carried and sprinted up the steps to smile encouragingly at TJ. “Wanna come down and say _’hi’_ to him? You don't have to get in the car.”

Pale blue eyes snapping to look at Scott, TJ whimpered again, “it’s . . . gone. They took it.”

Glancing down at Bucky, Scott nodded and looked at TJ. “You mean the arm? Yeah, the bomb blew it up. The doctors stitched his shoulder back together so he could get a new arm later when he heals a bit.”

“And . . . I’m a bad brother ‘cause I wanted him home?” TJ asked.

“That’s not bad, actually. Good brothers always want their brothers home.” Scott smiled widely. “So, you coming down so he knows you’re okay? Bucky thought you were too sick to move, maybe even . . . stuck in bed.”

TJ shook his head, hugging himself, “no . . . Buck needs to go back to the doctor’s . . .”

“So, you gonna come down and _tell_ him that, TJ? Let him know you’re okay and he can go back and heal? You guys can talk on the laptop. I can get it for him while I’m here?” Scott continued to smile, as if this was a perfectly normal event.

Tears filling his eyes, TJ nodded and walked down the stairs. He didn’t make it all the way to Bucky, too afraid that he’d hurt his brother. “Buck needs to go back to the doctor’s.”

Bucky looked at TJ, his face and head bandaged in various spots, while others showed burns and bruises. Of course, the most dramatic injury was the amputated left arm, his dominant side. The right arm had an IV in it, the arm on a board. What TJ couldn’t see under the blanket was that Bucky still had a catheter, too. If he hadn't been going into a full time nursing at home situation, he’d have never been voluntarily released. “I love you, TJ,” Bucky said, watching his brother through tired eyes. “Sorry I missed your birthday.”

TJ scrunched his nose up, ducking his head to avoid Bucky’s eyes as a few tears fell down his cheeks. “Buck needs to go back to the doctor’s . . .” he repeated softly, his hands trembling and spasming as they gripped his biceps.

Scott whispered in TJ’s ear, “tell him how much you love him, TJ, so he can relax and go back to the hospital, okay?”

Whimpering softly, TJ said, “I - - I love you, Buck,” he still didn’t look at his brother, not wanting to see all the damage, the missing left arm.

Bucky watched TJ and softly called, “I’ll go back to the hospital, if you want, TJ. But this is Sam. He’s going to help Loki around the house and if you need him, okay?” TJ’s avoidance broke Bucky’s heart; all he’d wanted to do was reassure his scared brother. Now he felt like _Frankenstein's monster_.

TJ nodded, his fingers clutching tightly enough on his biceps to leave bruises. “Buck hasta get better. Buck hasta be okay before he comes home . . .” his voice trembled as he tried to keep from falling apart.

Bucky nodded at last, wincing at the pain it caused. “I’m sorry I blew up, Teej. I didn’t mean to make you sad or sick of me.”

Scott gently took TJ’s uninjured side and guided him over to Bucky’s chair but didn’t make him touch Bucky. “TJ, are you sick of Bucky?” he asked.

“No,” TJ croaked, a few more tears falling from his eyes.

Bucky hesitated then reached out to touch TJ’s good hand, stroking. “See? I’m alive, baby. I’ll go get better now.”

“I - - I’m sorry I got you blown up,” TJ whimpered softly, looking down at where Bucky’s hand touched his.

Bucky blinked. “TJ, you didn’t get me blown up. You were waiting at home like a good brother. It was the bad robber who got me blown up.”

TJ shook his head, letting out a sob, “I got Buck hurt. Just like I got Momma, Daddy, and Becca dead.”

Firming his tired voice, Bucky insisted, “No. You didn’t. You didn’t hurt me, and you didn’t hurt them. I got blown up by a nasty robber at a dance club. And the car accident was because of a nasty drunk driver. TJ was a good boy both times.”

Steve mentally jotted down Bucky’s first independent remembrance of the scene he’d been injured at.

Shaking his head, TJ gripped his arms tighter, “why do I keep being okay?”

Chuckling at last, despite the pain and exhaustion, Bucky said, “because you’re a good boy and deserve to be okay, TJ. If you weren’t okay, I’d been crying and upset!”

“I want you okay. I don’t want me okay,” TJ whimpered.

Stiffening with a soft hiss, Bucky demanded firmly, “if you aren’t okay, I won’t be okay. Promise me to be okay for me so I can heal?”

Nodding, TJ quickly glanced at his brother and then back down at the ground, “o - - okay. I - - I love you . . .”

Bucky smiled and stroked TJ’s hand again. “I love you so, so much. TJ. You’re the best brother. I’m going back to the doctor now, okay? But promise to Skype me tomorrow? We can talk on the laptop. Okay? Maybe read stories to each other?”

Biting at his trembling bottom lip, TJ nodded and said, “o - - okay. Talk on computer tomorrow.” TJ felt a tightening in his chest at the thought of Bucky being gone longer.

Bucky stroked again, “and tonight? We can Skype tonight at nap time and read stories to each other, too?”

Sam chuckled, “you know, we can get permission for them to let Bucky keep an open feed so you can look over at any time and see what he’s up to, TJ. Same with you. We can keep you on open feed, too, for Bucky?”

“O - - okay,” TJ agreed on a shaky breath, feeling like his entire world crumbled around him. Bucky had always been there. He couldn’t remember a whole lot of his life before the accident but knew that Bucky had been there for him then, as well. Now, Bucky wasn’t going to be home, wasn’t going to be _there_ with TJ.

Sam said, “ready, TJ? Ready, Bucky? Steve? Gonna help me get this guy back to bed and set up his camera?”

Steve nodded, offering both Bucky and TJ a gentle smile, “yeah, let’s get Bucky back so he can heal better.”

Bucky said, “I love you, TJ. See you on the laptop when I get back to the hospital, okay?” He stroked TJ’s hand again.

“O - - okay,” TJ croaked, tears falling down his cheeks unheeded since Bucky stroked one hand and his other held his bicep in a bruising grip.

“Can I get a careful TJ hug? Or don’t wanna?” Bucky asked gently. “My back is okay.”

“I’ll hurt you worse,” TJ sniffled softly.

“Not if you put an arm around my back and kiss the very top of my head where there isn’t a bandage,” Bucky instructed his brother.

Looking up, pale eyes miserable and shining with tears, TJ shuffled forward a few steps to very carefully, yet very quickly, hug before he stepped back once more.

Bucky smiled up at TJ. “Thanks, baby. I love TJ hugs. They make me feel better.” He finally let go of TJ’s hand, curling his fingers over the board his arm had been braced on. “See you tonight for stories. Right? On the laptop?” As if on cue, Clint held up Bucky’s laptop case and handed it over to Scott.

Whimpering, TJ nodded, standing still in the foyer.

Clint handed TJ the book he’d made. “Want to give Bucky his card, TJ?”

“He’s . . . he’s not coming home . . .” TJ choked out.

Clint looked at TJ and said, “he will. Just not right now. You’ll be able to ask the doctor over the laptop every day if Bucky’s behaving so he can heal.” He handed the book to TJ. “And you can make more cards for Bucky. He can have a whole series by his favorite author.”

TJ looked at the card, frowning, and then handed it off to Bucky without saying anything.

Bucky put the card on his lap and, with difficulty, turned the pages, exclaiming over how clever TJ was with the pencils. “I need to get you coloring pencils, too, TJ. You’re an artist with them!” He looked up. “I can put this on my table and look at it every day! Thank you so much for this beautiful book. The wolf looks like it wants to leap from the page and howl! And . . .” Bucky checked out the Winter Soldier picture. He offered TJ a smile. “The Winter Soldier . . . or,” mischief sparked in his tired pale blue eyes, “me in costume?”

Sniffling, prying his hand off his bicep to wipe at his cheeks, TJ answered, “I don’t want the Winter Soldier . . . I want Buck . . .” TJ murmured softly.

Bucky smiled, “so this is me? As a hero? Thanks, TJ. I’m gonna get a real nice arm when I heal enough. And I’ll look just like a hero.” He reached out again and stroked TJ’s good hand.

“You’re . . . already a hero, Buck,” TJ whimpered softly, his eyes squeezing shut, a few more tears trailing down his pale cheeks.

“TJ, baby, look at me? Just a moment, please?” Bucky coaxed softly.

TJ’s hands clenched by his sides and he forced himself to look at his brother. Bucky could see the dark circles under his brother’s eyes, the pale complexion, the red, bloodshot eyes.

“TJ’s my hero because he keeps trying, not giving up. I’m going to be like TJ and keep working hard to heal.” Bucky offered a soft smile. He looked just as messed up as TJ.

Shaking his head, TJ let out a soft, distressed keen, “n - - not like Buck. Buck is _good_ and catches bad guys.”

“And TJ is good, too. He makes me card-books and lets me touch him when he’s worried. TJ tells me to go heal, because he loves me and wants me better. That’s good, TJ. It means your a very good man.” Bucky smiled, blinking away his drowsiness as the morphine drifted into his system from his IV machine again.

Shaking his head, TJ said, softly, “go to doctor’s, Buck. Go to doctor’s so you can be okay.”

“Going now, Teej, baby.” Bucky agreed, letting go of TJ’s hand again. Scott picked up the bags and carried them back to his van. Sam turned the wheelchair around and headed slowly to the van, careful of Bucky’s IV and catheter. Steve followed the trio back to the van, leaving TJ standing in the foyer with Clint.

Clint nodded and sighed. “Wanna go upstairs and get your laptop hooked up? We can see if Loki’s awake, too.”

As the van pulled away, it revealed Brock Rumlow standing across the road, watching. He’d found them at last. He offered TJ a smile but just started walking away, hands in his pockets.

TJ blinked in surprise, letting out a soft whimper. He looked back at Clint; he didn’t say anything, just turned and made his way back up the stairs until he made it back into the apartment.

Clint frowned, watching Brock walk away. He pulled out his phone and called Maria Hill, heading up the stairs behind TJ. His eyes met Natasha’s as he said, “yeah, Maria? Rumlow was here. Across the street. I’m at Bucky’s place.”

The frown sounded obvious in Maria’s voice, “That breaks the restraining order Bucky was awarded.”

“Yeah, I know,” Clint said. “He walked away, but both TJ and I saw him. He knows where they live now. Gonna need a patrol to keep TJ safe until they can catch Rumlow for breaking the order.” He continued to watch Natasha as Bucky’s partner registered what just happened.

“Already on it,” Maria answered.

“Thanks. I’ll stick here with Natasha for the next few days. We’ll take over Steve’s place if we have to. I’d feel safer with cops in the house.” Clint watched TJ in the apartment.

“Yeah, keep TJ safe. We don’t know if Brock might try to take his frustrations out on Bucky’s little brother,” Maria said.

“And he saw the van pull away with Bucky. Check that the hospital guard is back in place. TJ convinced him to return for further rest and treatment, bless him. TJ’s a good brother.” Clint knew TJ could hear his words, though he pretended he didn’t realize TJ could.

“I’ll make sure there is a guard,” Maria said.

“Thanks,” Clint hung up and pocketed his phone. He smiled at Natasha, “Maria’s going to catch Rumlow. Hey, TJ, is Loki awake yet?”

“I - - I don’t know,” TJ whimpered softly, pacing in the living room, fingers twitching by his sides. He’d been so distracted that he hadn’t made sure that he’d been given his afternoon medicine.

Clint looked at Natasha. He walked to TJ’s room and said, “Loki? Time to wake up.”

Loki got up and came out of the bedroom, looking just as exhausted as when he went in. “Bucky home?” he asked softly, checking his watch with a frown. He headed for TJ’s medicines and frowned more. “TJ? You missed your medicine?”

TJ’s hands spasmed and he let out a whimper, “Buck . . . Buck’s not coming home . . . Buck’s not coming home . . .” included in the brunet’s afternoon medicine he missed was his anxiety medication.

Loki took out the medicine and got some juice. He handed the large sized sippy cup and the plate of medicine to TJ. “Sit and take your medicine, TJ,” he instructed calmly. “Now, start with the blue one,” he pointed out the anxiety med.

“Buck not coming home and the bad man was outside,” TJ worried at his bottom lip, letting out a soft keen. The eighteen year old ran his trembling fingers through his curls, gripping and pulling. “Buck had to go back. He’s not coming home.”

Looking at TJ, Loki said, “will he come home in a few weeks, maybe? Did you ask?” He pointed to the blue pill again. “Take that pill, TJ. You have to take your meds.”

“Don’t want to be weeks without Buck,” TJ sobbed softly, pulling at his curls roughly.

“TJ, take your blue pill,” Loki said, gently. “We’ll call the doctor and find out how long it takes to heal from being blown up, okay?”

Clint called out, “TJ, bring the stuff in here. I’ve got the laptop set up. You can see Bucky’s room while they set it up for him.”

Falling to the floor in the middle of the living room, TJ brought his legs up to his chest and shook his head, fingers tangled in his curls again.

Loki sighed and nodded. “TJ, listen to Lucky, okay? Look at me, darling.”

Sobbing, the eighteen year old looked over at his nurse. His breath hitched, unable to take full breaths.

“Do you want a shot to help you, darling?” Loki asked calmly, gently.

“I want Buck home. I want him home and not blown up,” TJ sobbed, pulling again.

Loki captured TJ’s hands and brought them down to around his knees instead. “Here you go. Catch your knees, darling. Don’t pull your hair.” Without looking away from TJ, he instructed, “Natasha, get my medical bag from TJ’s room on the desk, please.”

As the red-haired woman hurried off, TJ sobbed and shook his head, “want Buck home. Stupid, stupid . . .”

Loki continued holding TJ’s hands against TJ’s knees. He softly instructed, “take a deep breath, darling. A deep breath for Lucky.”

Sobbing, TJ tried to take a breath but it caught in the back of his throat.

Natasha came back with the bag, kneeling down next to Loki as she offered it over.

“Okay, careful of his hand, Natasha, but put yours over his so he can’t pull his hair. Just block him from lifting them, don’t push on them. Got it?” Loki advised.

She nodded, positioning herself so she could place her hands over TJ’s delicately built ones.

Loki took his hands away and opened his bag. He took out a blue capped syringe, carefully checking the label to be sure it was what he wanted. He pushed the sleeve up on TJ’s good arm and began to inject the anxiety medicine right into his arm. “This should help, TJ. It’s the blue stuff. Okay? Just to calm you, not to nap.”

Letting out a soft keen, TJ nodded, sniffling, “o - - okay,” he could already feel the medication taking affect.

“Now, can you breathe for Lucky, TJ?” Loki coaxed, smiling gently at the distraught man. Loki disposed of the needle in the portable sharps box he kept.

Meeting Loki’s eyes, TJ sniffled and let out a shaky breath, feeling his anxiety already begin to ease. “I wish Bucky didn’t get blown up . . .”

Loki used gentle fingers to wipe tears from TJ’s cheeks. “So do I, sweet TJ.” He touched foreheads with the young brunet. “Will you look at the computer to see Bucky settled in his room?”

“O - - okay,” TJ said, standing up slowly, wobbling a bit, before he made it to the living room where Clint had set up the computer. “Is Bucky there yet?”

Moving up behind TJ, helping him settle on the couch, Loki pointed out where a nurse settled Bucky on the bed. “There he is. See?”

“Bucky?” TJ called, watching the screen intently; obviously he’d been crying.

Bucky moved his head, obviously hearing TJ’s voice over the laptop. “Teej?” He gasped and centered on the screen. “Hey, baby. You gonna have some dinner?”

“Not hungry, Buck,” TJ answered, still watching the screen, his eyes flickering to Bucky’s left side, the missing arm. “I miss you . . .”

Bucky smiled, looking tired. “I miss you, too, baby. Are you being good for Lucky?”

TJ shrugged one shoulder, worrying at his bottom lip, “I’m . . . trying?”

“Good boy, Teej,” Bucky said. “You napping on the couch tonight? We can wake up and see each other?” He allowed the two nurses to take his vital signs and hook up an IV.

“I - - I can nap on the couch, Buck,” TJ said, looking at the couch and then at the screen again. “How long until you good enough to come home, Buck?”

“Not sure. Trying to get better as soon as I can, baby,” Bucky soothed, smiling. “But we can watch each other and talk all the time over the computer at least. And I won’t be going to work until after I come home. We have all day we can spend time together over the computer.”

“P - - promise?” TJ asked, his fingers tapping against his thighs.

“Of course, I promise. I love you, Teej.” Bucky lifted his hand as if to stroke the computer screen. Loki stroked TJ’s cheek for Bucky since he couldn’t do it.

Whimpering, TJ leaned into the touch and then said, “maybe - - maybe I go to the hospital? Sometime . . . not now . . . but sometime?”

“I’d be happy to have you come, TJ,” Bucky smiled again. “Take a nap now? We can both nap?”

“O - - okay, take nap . . . but, you’ll stay right there, right, Buck? You’re not gonna go anywhere?” TJ asked.

“Gonna stay right here, baby. They even put something together so I can pee without wetting the bed.” Bucky hid a yawn behind his hand. “But you gotta pee in the bathroom or a bottle.”

“I - - I’ll pee in the bathroom, Buck. Don’t wanna pee in a bottle. That’s gross,” TJ commented, scrunching his nose up.

Chuckling softly, Bucky said, “lay down? Lay down and watch me so we can nap together, Teej?”

“O - - okay,” TJ said, easing down on the couch and watching Bucky intently. “Have a good nap, Bucky.”

“You, too, baby. Close your eyes and every time you open them, you’ll see me here, okay?” Bucky let his own eyes close, settling into the pillow, letting his pain medicine take over.


	9. Slow Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Anxiety, Fear, Grief, Sickness, Trauma, Post Traumatic Responses, Amnesia**

A few days passed by and, due to the arrangement with the computer and live feed of Bucky’s room, they were able to keep TJ calm and back to his normal schedule. Just as Bucky woke up from an afternoon nap, a soft knock rapped against the door. Blinking several times, Bucky looked towards the door. He let his eyes rove to the clock and frowned. It wasn’t time for his medical visitors. “Yes?” he asked.

The door opened and Steve slipped past the stationed guard that had been there ever since Brock had been sighted outside of the home a few days prior. Steve offered the brunet a smile; he had a bag slung over one shoulder and had dressed much like Bucky would for a day on the job. “Hey, Buck, how’re you feeling today?” Steve moved over to the chair set by the side of the bed.

Bucky tilted his head and said, “Steve? They’re letting me have visitors now?”

“They’re letting me visit and if TJ wants to come, he’d be allowed, as well, with Loki, but other than that? No, you’re visiting list is very restricted still,” Steve answered honestly, setting his bag down on the floor. He reached down to pull out a black leather binder book and then some drawing supplies.

Looking puzzled, Bucky asked, “what’re you doing? Drawing me crippled in bed?” He couldn’t understand why Steve would want to do such a morbid thing.

“For one, you’re not crippled, and I’d be honored to sketch you sometime,” Steve said honestly, his tone completely serious. He lifted his eyes to meet Bucky's as he continued, “but I am not drawing you, not today at least. Bucky, I work as a sketch artist for the Brooklyn Police Department.”

“You . . .” Bucky groaned and closed his eyes, leaning back into the pillows. “So you knew all along what I did . . . how I . . .” He shook his head and kept his eyes closed. “About Brock and me.”

“I had no idea, Bucky. It wasn’t something they told everyone in the department, and I didn’t even know you were a cop until the news about the explosion and that you’d been hurt on the job,” Steve answered, opening the sketchbook and flipping it to the first unused page. “I didn’t know that Brock was your abusive ex until you told me at the diner.”

“Then why the book? You don’t want to sketch me . . . what are you going to draw, Steve?” Bucky shifted a bit in the bed, trying to sit further up, straighter.

“Anything that you can remember,” Steve answered, looking at Bucky, “and I do want to draw you but that will have to wait until I’m not on duty.”

“Remember?” Bucky hit upon that part of the speech rather than Steve’s wish to draw him after hours. “Remember about?”

“The explosion, what you can remember, we’ll ease into it, but just tell me what you can remember,” Steve said, finally moving his gaze back down to the paper, hand poised with the drawing pencil.

“I . . . Steve . . . I don’t remember an explosion.” Bucky frowned, looking troubled, worried. “I was told that’s how I hurt myself, lost my arm, but I remember nothing.”

“You didn’t hurt yourself. You were a victim to a rigged explosion at a crime scene for that robbery homicide unsub you’ve been trying to catch,” Steve replied smoothly, looking up at Bucky once more. “What is the last thing you remember from before you woke up in the hospital?”

“Okay,” Bucky nodded, letting his hand crimp the sheets repeatedly with restless fingers. “Before I woke up. I . . . I was at home with TJ and went to work. There was a call?”

Nodding, Steve said, “when you woke up, you said you recalled talking to Natasha about TJ’s upcoming birthday party . . . does that sound familiar?” Steve knew Bucky still felt upset about missing TJ’s birthday, but he needed to try to get Bucky’s memory to as close to the crime scene as possible.

“The party. Yeah, was gonna give him his new phone,” Bucky agreed, sounding quite lucid. “But I had to work. Had to go to a crime scene. Another robbery.”

“At the club,” Steve prompted gently, “do you remember pulling up? What did it look like? If it hurts to try to recall we’ll back up to what you can, okay? Don’t push yourself too hard.” Steve looked back down at his sketchpad, listening intently to Bucky’s description.

“I pulled up to a dance club. I . . . “ frowning, Bucky shook his head. “I can’t recall the name of the club?” Worry crossed his face and he looked to Steve. “Why can’t I remember the name of the damn club?”

“The head trauma, Bucky, it’s okay, it’s normal. Don’t worry about what you can’t remember, okay? Do you recall what the club looks like, maybe? Is it big or small? Were there a lot of people outside?” Steve tried to push Bucky away from what he couldn’t recall and towards something that he maybe could.

“There were a few people outside, some really loud music. I think it was . . .” Bucky frowned, closing his eyes again, “Beyonce?” Bucky looked at Steve as if for confirmation.

“Good job, Bucky,” Steve praised, smiling, as his hand started to move across the paper. “Was there an awning over the door? A light, maybe? Did you approach from the back? The front?”

“I parked at the side and got out of the car,” Bucky said. “And I walked to the door. There were a few couples around and the music was playing.” He glanced towards the computer screen, making sure TJ still slept on. “There was a neon sign over the door, but I can’t . . . I don’t know what it said. There were dark boards over the windows. Something about a cat. A cat?” Bucky shook his head. “Why would there be a cat there?”

“I don’t know but anything else you can remember?” Steve asked while his hand continued to draw a very rough sketch of the scene Bucky told him about.

  
  


“There was tape . . . yellow tape. It was over the door and I ducked under? And there were people inside, and the music was so loud.” Bucky put a hand over his eyes and whimpered suddenly in pain, going pale.

“It’s okay, stop, Bucky,” Steve ordered gently yet firmly, finishing up the sketch and then looking up at Bucky. “You did really good, Buck, really good.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” Bucky moaned, hand moving to his abdomen, trying to hold back his heaves. “Gonna . . .” he squeezed his eyes shut, groaning in pain.

Moving quickly, Steve grabbed a pail that was kept nearby and positioned it so that Bucky could easily get sick without making a mess all over himself. “It’s okay, Buck, it’s alright.”

Heaving into the pail, Bucky held onto Steve’s wrist with his hand, weak and trembling as waves of nausea and pain rode over him. Finally, his vomiting turned to dry heaves and slowed. Bucky leaned sideways against Steve’s strong arm and chest.

Setting the pail on the floor, out of the way, Steve ran his free hand through Bucky’s sweat dampened hair, “it’s okay. You did good, real good.”

“I didn’t remember anything,” Bucky gasped out and kept his pale eyes closed. “A stupid cat and a dumb song. Who cares if _‘Put a Ring on It’_ was playing?”

“You remembered a whole lot,” Steve assured Bucky, grabbing his sketchbook and setting it carefully on Bucky’s lap, “when you’re ready, look down at your lap and see what you remembered.”

“I don’t wanna?” Bucky said, keeping his eyes up, searching Steve’s face. “If I look, my head’s gonna get worse, I think. And I won’t remember anything useful. Why can’t I help this time? When I’m the damned victim here!” Bucky sighed and let his eyes drop to the drawing after all, wincing as he looked over the simple sketch of a dark building with dark boards over the window openings, a blurred neon-like sign over the door. Crime tape hung waist high over the door and several people stood outside a ring of officials, watching and apparently talking, worry, confusion, and some fear on their faces. Softly, Bucky asked, “where’s the damned cat?”

Steve pointed to a cat sitting off to the edge of the building, “until you can remember more about the cat, we can leave it there, but you did really good, Buck.”

“The cat was closer . . . on the building?” Bucky frowned then gasped and put his hand to his head again. “Need water . . . rest . . .”

“Okay, okay,” Steve quickly shut the sketchbook and set it on his chair before reaching for Bucky’s cup of water. “Here, Buck, take a sip,” he carefully put the cup to Bucky’s lips to help aid him.

Sipping, Bucky lifted miserable eyes to meet Steve’s. “How can remembering the crime scene help, Steve? The cops and investigators have the crime scene. It’s not a mystery.”

“It’s about jogging your memory, Buck. The more you can remember, the better, and it’s very possible you saw something that was missed by others because of evidence destroyed by the explosion,” Steve informed, putting the cup back on the table when Bucky finished.

“Steve . . . was I the only one inside that lived?” Bucky’s voice sounded low, as if he waited for bad news.

Letting out a sigh, Steve nodded, eyes pained, “yes, Bucky, anyone on the inside died. Luckily, most of the people were out because the police were working on clearing it when the body was found. We lost four fellow officers and two EMT’s.”

“Four . . .” Bucky reached for the pail, hand flailing as he grew pale instantly.

Steve helped Bucky once more, grabbing the pail and holding it so Bucky could get sick. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” No one had told Bucky about Brock being sighted outside their home, either, not wanting him to get upset.

Finishing getting sick, Bucky leaned on Steve once more, tears running down his face, body trembling almost bad enough to be mistaken for seizures. “Steve . . . who would do that? Do . . . do the arson investigators think the explosion was held until cops were in there or timed?”

“It’s a strong possibility, yes, but they also think you may have been the target, Bucky. There is evidence to support that it was remotely triggered, meaning whoever planted the bombs was watching the scene and picked the exact time to set off the explosion . . . right when you were entering the building,” Steve pointed out, keeping his voice very soft and soothing.

Blinking, Bucky shook his head, sounding instantly distressed, angry, “oh, it wasn’t when I walked in. I walked into a back room before the world blew up! I hit a wall, hard, and woke up in the hospital on tubes and in pain everywhere, especially my arm!”

Steve smiled gently and even dropped a kiss to the top of Bucky’s head, “you remembered the explosion, Bucky;” he had specifically provided Bucky a false location of where he was, hoping that it would trigger something in the brunet.

“And that damned cat sat there the entire time. Just sat there,” Bucky broke down into sobs, shaking as he burrowed against Steve.

“It’s okay,” Steve soothed, running his hand up and down Bucky’s back gently, “it’s okay. You’re safe, Bucky, it’s okay.”

Sobbing harder, Bucky managed to gasp out, “T . . . J . . .? Can’t . . . let . . . Teej . . . see . . .”

“Bucky?” TJ’s voice called out, Bucky’s sobs obviously having woken him up from his nap. “Buck? You hurt? You’re . . . you’re crying?” The young man instantly sat up, his wild curls sticking in every direction.

Unable to get past his sobs, Bucky whispered “tell . . . arm . . .”

“Tell arm?” Steve repeated back to Bucky, unsure what he wanted.

“Arm . . . hurt . . .” Bucky tried desperately to get Steve to reassure TJ since he couldn’t make much sense.

Nodding, Steve looked over at the screen and gave TJ a gentle, reassuring smile as he still held Bucky in his arms, “it’s okay, TJ. Bucky’s alright. His arm hurts and he had to remember some pretty scary stuff but he will be okay.”

TJ’s eyes watched Bucky closely and he frowned in worry, “you promise?”

“Love . . . Teej,” Bucky sobbed out.

“Bucky says that he loves you, Teej, very, very much,” Steve repeated back to the young man on the computer screen.

“I love Bucky, too,” TJ whimpered, wishing he could help his brother, but he didn’t know how.

Calming as he heard his little brother’s worried voice, Bucky finally managed to sob out, “just a bad dream, baby . . . I miss you, Teej.” He lifted his face from Steve’s shoulder and offered a watery smile.

“I miss you, B - - Buck,” TJ sniffled and rubbed his nose. “Wanna see the picture I colored with Loki today while you were napping?”

“Oh, please? I really wanna see it?” Bucky asked, trying to sit up straight again then giving up and leaning into Steve’s warm strength. “Please, Teej?”

Smiling brightly, TJ nodded and said, “I’ll be right back, Buck, ‘kay? Don’t go anywhere!”

Bucky called, “okay. I’ll stay right here.” Once TJ disappeared, Bucky said, “sorry, Steve. Kept getting sick.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve assured Bucky, letting the man lean into him though Steve carefully situated himself so he could sit on the edge of the bed. “Still beautiful,” he breathed against Bucky’s temple as he placed a kiss to his temple.

“Me?” Bucky blinked and turned his head to look at Steve. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Inside and out,” Steve nodded, smiling down at Bucky, his bright blue eyes genuine. “And I want to do whatever I can to help nail the bastard who hurt you. We’ll get him, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Bucky smiled at Steve, a soft expression similar to what he gave TJ all the time.

“Buck! Bucky! Look!” TJ came hurrying back, displaying the wolf picture he’d been saving in his baby animals coloring book. For the first time, there were no colors on the outside of the lines and the coloring actually looked pretty smooth.

“What a pretty picture!” Bucky studied it. “Is that what you used to color? That’s a great photo!”

“I colored it, Bucky!” TJ said with a wide grin, flipping the cover of the book over so Bucky could see it was a part of the coloring book and not a photograph, “see?”

“No! Really?” Bucky looked at Steve. “How’d he get that photograph into his book? It’s so pretty! I’ve never seen anyone color so well!”

Steve smiled, looking very impressed, “that’s an amazing picture, TJ, by far the best coloring I’ve ever seen!”

TJ beamed even brighter, “it is? You hear that, Buck?”

“Yeah, I did. Hey,” Bucky offered his brother a smile. “Maybe you and Steve could color sometime? He likes pictures, right, Stevie?”

“I love pictures,” Steve confirmed with a nod, “and I’d love to color with you, TJ. If you want?”

“I want to! When Buck gets home, I want to!” TJ nodded, smiling.

“Hey, Teej, maybe you can help me learn to color with my right hand? I’d like that. Coloring with you and Steve and Lucky.” Bucky lifted his head from Steve’s shoulder at last, offering a tired smile to his brother over the computer. “Was your nap good?”

“My nap was good,” TJ nodded, picking up his stuffed elephant and hugging it while he looked at the screen, “Buck? You think when you get home . . . we can go to the toy store again?”

“I’d love to go to the toy store with you again, baby,” Bucky perked up a bit at the idea that TJ wanted to leave the house and go back to the store. “Was there a special toy you might want or just want to look?”

“I don’t know?” TJ shrugged, licking his lips, “there was a whole bunch there, Buck. I didn’t even get to see all of it, it was so big!”

“Then we’ll have to see more of the store. Maybe a few times, a bit at a time, huh?” Bucky asked. “Will you want Lucky and Steve with us?”

“Lucky and Steve, yeah, they can come, Buck, but you gotta come home first,” TJ said, “you gotta come home so we can go.”

“I’m getting better. I can get up and go to the bathroom now. No more catheter.” Bucky smiled at his brother.

“That’s good, right, Buck? No peeing in a bottle,” TJ scrunched up his nose again at the gross image.

Nodding, Bucky said, “yeah, no more bottle pee. And I’m starting to feed myself with my right hand. I’m getting better and trying hard, baby. I want to come home as soon as I can. I miss you and love you so much.”

“I miss you, too, Buck, and I love you! You’re not here to tell the mean man to go away,” TJ said, hugging Bubbles again.

Steve winced and stiffened a bit, waiting for Bucky’s reaction.

Stiffening, Bucky said, warily, “the mean man? Teej? Is there a mean man coming near you?”

“Your mean boyfriend was outside the house when you went back to the doctor's,” TJ said.

“Steve!” Bucky suddenly sounded worried, frightened, “tell them. Tell them he’s going near TJ!”

“Bucky, we have a police cruiser stationed outside your house at all hours, have for the last few days,” Steve assured Bucky, running his hand up and down Bucky's back. “Clint called it in as soon as he and TJ saw Brock.”

“You sure?” Bucky studied TJ as best he could over the computer. “TJ? Is there a cop car outside? All the time?”

“Uh huh, I don’t like them all the time but Clint says they’re nice and gonna keep the bad man away,” TJ answered, “and Loki hasn’t left, either, so that’s good.”

“Loki lives there now?” Bucky glanced at Steve for reassurance.

“He hasn’t left since the accident,” Steve nodded, meeting Bucky’s eyes.

“But he’s got to be exhausted?” Bucky asked, worried for the health and stamina of the lean raven-haired nurse.

Loki walked into the frame, dangling a homemade milkshake in front of TJ’s eyes. “Strawberry,” he said. The nurse actually didn’t look as tired as Bucky had feared.

TJ’s eyes lit up and he happily took the milkshake from Loki, immediately beginning to sip at the delicious treat. “Thanks, Lucky!” TJ said between sips.

Steve laughed softly, “he looks okay to me, Buck.”

“Loki? Are you okay?” Bucky studied the pair, knowing it couldn’t be easy to keep TJ calm at all times.

Smiling, Loki slid to the couch next to TJ and said, “we’ve got it worked out. Right, boyfriend?” He reached over and stroked TJ’s curls from his forehead.

“Uh huh!” TJ nodded, snuggling up against Loki as he sipped happily at his shake. The closeness wasn’t sexual, more like one would snuggle up to a friend. “Lucky’s the bestest boyfriend ever!”

Studying the pair, Bucky finally sat back against his hospital bed. He smiled in relief. “As long as you both are happy, that’s great. I’m glad you found each other, baby. Thanks for taking care of my brother, Loki. I love him so much.”

“I love him, too,” Loki assured, smiling at TJ.

Looking over at Loki, still sipping at his treat, TJ beamed and asked, “you love me? You promise?”

“I promise,” Loki smiled and kissed TJ’s forehead. “And did you show him the baby wolf you colored? The one that took four days?”

“Uh huh! Steve says I’m the best colorer!” TJ confirmed with a happy nod.

“He showed me a photograph,” Bucky teased. “It was beautiful!”

“I colored it, Buck! Honest! I colored it all by myself!” TJ told his brother.

“Well, since you don’t lie, I guess I have to believe it’s a coloring. But it looks so good. No colors out of the lines or anything. I need to get a frame for it.” Bucky smiled at his brother, leaning against Steve once more without really thinking.

“You are boyfriends with Steve, huh? Steve’s a good boyfriend?” TJ asked, looking between Bucky and Steve.

Blinking, Bucky looked at Steve and said, “am I?” his voice soft.

“Do you want to be?” Steve asked, giving Bucky a smile, his bright blue eyes happy.

Looking thoughtful, inadvertently comparing this beautiful blond with his former boyfriend, Bucky finally nodded. “Yeah, Stevie. I’d love to be boyfriends, if you don’t mind my extra baggage.”

“I’ll help you carry it gladly,” Steve said softly, leaning down carefully to press his lips to Bucky’s.

With a sigh, Bucky leaned into the kiss, pressing gently back. Softly, Bucky kissed back, resting his hand against Steve’s chest, not to push him away but to be certain he wasn’t dreaming.

**************

Looking up at the house, leaning on Steve as he paused after getting out of the car, Bucky whispered, “it’s not too soon this time, right, Steve?”

Offering Bucky a smile, Steve shook his head, “two months, Buck, your stitches are completely healed and you’ve done very well in therapy. Can walk perfectly on your own. I’d say you’re definitely ready.”

“And still can’t remember anything more without getting sick and pounding headaches,” Bucky murmured. He smiled widely, though, when he caught sight of TJ in the window. Lifting his right arm, Bucky waved to his baby brother.

It only took a moment before TJ rushed out of the front door, towards his brother. The excitement of Bucky coming home was enough to make him completely forget about his fear of stairs. “Bucky!” TJ exclaimed, hurrying over. The younger man’s hair had grown out in the two months Bucky had been in the hospital, definitely in need of a haircut, and it actually looked like TJ may have put on some healthy, very much needed, weight, which could be because TJ had often joined Bucky in his physical therapy sessions with Loki’s help.

Bucky broke away from Steve and wrapped his arm around TJ, hugging his brother carefully, avoiding the injured arm out of long habit. “You look wonderful, baby!”

TJ beamed happily, hugging his brother and nuzzling at his neck before pulling away, “you look good, too, Bucky! You don’t look so sick! I painted you a picture, wanna see it? I painted it all by myself!” He had moved past having to stick to something with pre-drawn lines, though he still loved his coloring books.

“You painted?” Bucky looked thrilled. Keeping close to his brother, Bucky reached for the door and opened it, stepping carefully inside. “Show me? Steve? Coming up?”

“Right behind ya, Buck,” Steve reassured his boyfriend as TJ lead them up the stairs to their apartment.

TJ opened the door and called, “Lucky! Bucky’s home! I’m gonna show him the picture I painted!” As TJ lead them to the dining room, Bucky could see that his brother never opened his birthday presents from two months before. On the table lay a painted picture of a tree in a meadow, a very basic piece but definitely showing just how far TJ had come to actually be able to paint an image freehand.

“It’s beautiful, baby!” Bucky carefully took the picture and studied it. Smiling at TJ, Bucky said, “have you been practicing? It looks like you’ve worked hard.”

“Uh huh,” TJ nodded, grinning at his brother, “I painted lots. Lucky showed me how and my hand doesn’t shake as bad, Buck!”

“Working with my therapy helped us both,” Bucky sounded delighted. “I’m so glad! I _knew_ you weren’t handicapped, baby! I knew if we found the right thing, you’d learn again.”

TJ suddenly hugged Bucky again, breathing in his brother’s scent, “I missed you.”

Bucky hugged TJ in return, whispering, “I’ve missed you so much. I love my TJ.”

“I love you, too!” TJ said happily and then stepped back, his fingers drumming on his thighs. “What do you wanna do today, Buck?”

“How about we make some lunch and hang out with each other? We can practice physical therapy and maybe, if you want, open your birthday gifts now I’m here? Sorry I’m so late, baby.” Bucky hugged TJ close.

Worrying at his bottom lip, TJ looked at his older brother, “you’re not gonna leave again, are you?”

“No plans to, baby,” Bucky sank down in his cushioned chair at the table. “In fact, I’m not able to go to work for sometime. They,” Bucky looked up to his brother and said, “they might not let me come back to work at all, TJ. I might wind up on disability.”

“What’s that?” TJ asked, tilting his head slightly as he looked at his brother and sank down in his chair across from Bucky.

“It means that the government and the police I worked for will be paying my medical bills and give me a monthly allowance, like you get, because I can’t work. It’s to help me live, buy food, pay rent. The money is because I was hurt while working and will keep coming as long as I can’t work. I’m going to work hard to try to get off disability, but there’s money coming in while I try.” Bucky smiled softly at his brother, trying not to show his frustration at being handicapped in such a way, for any length of time.

“I get money, too? But . . . I never caught bad guys like you, Buck . . . I never had a job,” TJ looked confused, his brows knitted together as he tried to puzzle things out.

“The man who drove the car that hurt you has to pay because he hurt you,” Bucky said.

“But . . . he’s dead Bucky, that’s what you said,” TJ pointed out.

“I know, Teej. The money comes from what is called _an estate_. It’s all the stuff he used to have. It was sold so he could pay for your medical bills. And the state also gives you money every month since you can’t work. It’s called a disability benefit.” Bucky reached over and stroked TJ’s cheek.

TJ nuzzled at Bucky’s palm, having missed his brother so much over the last few months. “I’m . . . sorry I didn’t go to the doctor’s, Buck. I tried - - I promise I tried.”

“I know you tried, baby, and that’s what’s important. That you _tried_.” Bucky stroked again and softly said, “wanna open your gifts?”

Looking over at the wrapped presents again, TJ nodded, “please? I wanted to wait for you, Buck, but I don’t know where Lucky is . . .” TJ looked around again. He’d called out when they’d entered the apartment and usually Loki was always there.

Lucky walked in from the kitchen, slowly, carrying a small round cake TJ hadn’t seen. It had strawberry frosting and a laser-printed edible wolf picture on it. Smiling at Steve across the room at the other doorway, Loki began singing, “happy birthday to you . . .”

Steve smoothly joined in, his tone mixing in with Loki’s as they sang happy birthday to the young man. Bucky joined in at the second line, hearing Clint and Nat, too, join in from the kitchen doorway. When the song finished, Loki put the cake down on the table in front of TJ and lit a candle in the shape of a one and another in the shape of an eight, both set on a small plate next to the cake, not on it.

Grinning brightly, TJ waited until Loki finished lighting the candles and stepped out of the way before he closed his eyes and made a wish. TJ then opened his eyes once more and blew out the candles, smiling widely at the small group gathered. He looked at the cake and his expression brightened even more, “it’s a wolf!”

Nodding, Loki said, “and the picture is edible. I have a copy so you can keep it, but this one can be eaten.” He produced a rolled paper with a ribbon around it, handing it to TJ.

TJ took the paper and unrolled it, happy to see it was the image that was on the cake, the very same image TJ had colored a few months prior. “It’s so pretty! I colored that, Buck!”

Bucky nodded and hugged his brother. “It’s beautiful!”

Steve pulled out his phone and opened up the camera app, “hey, Buck, TJ, wanna get a picture with the cake before we cut into it and eat it?” Steve grinned at the two brothers.

“Yeah, great idea!” Bucky smiled at TJ. “Photo, Teej?”

“Okay!” TJ agreed readily. Luckily, TJ didn’t have a problem with photographs on most days and the days he did were ones that no one would want to capture in a photo anyways. He leaned in closer to Bucky and looked over at Steve, who held his phone ready, and grinned brightly.

Bucky made sure to pause long enough for Steve to get the cake at a good angle since he couldn’t lift the cake to position it. Once Steve allowed them to relax, Bucky leaned against TJ and whispered, “sorry I’m late, but here I am. Happy eighteenth, baby.”

“Best birthday present,” TJ murmured softly, nuzzling at Bucky’s neck again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, TJ Barnes.” Bucky carefully slid his right arm around TJ and hugged him close. “I’m so proud of you, too. You worked so hard in physical therapy.”

“Uh huh, my hands don’t shake much anymore!” TJ stated, displaying his hands which, for the first time since the accident that Bucky had seen, weren’t trembling. He grinned over at Natasha who started cutting out slices of the cakes and dishing them out to everyone.

Bucky let Natasha handle the knife and cake, knowing he wasn’t able to at that moment; he trembled from relief and emotion at coming home, being with his brother once more. Once everyone had been served, Bucky nuzzled at TJ’s cheek and said, “gonna eat, baby?”

Nodding, TJ took a bite of the delicious cake and he grinned, “it’s the best cake ever, Buck! Thank you, Lucky!” TJ looked over at his nurse and boyfriend; though the relationship hadn’t progress to anything past platonic cuddling and some hand holding or platonic kisses; TJ felt very happy.

Loki smiled happily and ate at his own slice. “Thank you, TJ darling. I told Natasha exactly what to pick up and she did it perfectly.”

Looking over at Natasha, TJ smiled and said, “thank you, Natasha!”

“You’re very welcome,” Natasha smiled at the young man before taking a bite of her cake.

After everyone had eaten their cake and the dishes had been loaded into the dishwasher, TJ looked over at Bucky, “can I open the presents now? Please?”

“Yes, please?” Bucky countered, smiling happily. “I’d love to see you open your gifts. Thanks for waiting for me, Teej.”

“Don’t open presents without Buck,” TJ said with a nod, reaching over to grab the first of the presents given to him a few months before. The one he’d picked up happened to the from Steve and said so on the gift tag. Opening the gift carefully, TJ gasped when he saw several books, ranging from novel adaptations of the _Captain America_ movies to books about wolves or featuring wolves. “Look, Buck!” TJ grinned. The books were all in TJ’s reading level but not so easy that he wouldn’t be able to advance himself when reading them.

“Oh, TJ! Steve those are great! Do you like them, baby?” Bucky reached out to touch one of the wolf books, one that told about the habits and habitats of the various wolves.

“I love them! Thank you, Steve!” TJ beamed and actually slipped out of the seat to hug his brother’s boyfriend, a very big deal for the touch-shy TJ.

Steve grinned and hugged TJ in return, “you’re welcome, TJ. I’m happy that you like them. Should be a fun way to spend some time, huh?”

TJ nodded and pulled back to sink into his chair once more, picking up one of the books and looking though it, completely enraptured.

Bucky didn’t press TJ to open his other gifts, shooting a happy smile at the others. He knew these people were good friends because none of them pressed TJ to get on with his gifts, accepting that gift opening could take hours for the enraptured young man. Very slowly, Bucky slipped a gaily wrapped gift across the table in TJ’s vision range, drawing attention with the slow movement, grinning. Bucky slipped the gift towards himself as if taking it.

Looking up from from his book, TJ grinned and said, “that’s _my_ gift, Buck! Your birthday is in March!” TJ sent the book carefully on top of the others.

“Well,” Bucky teased lightly, “ I thought maybe you didn’t want it?”

“I want it, Buck! Please?” TJ reached for his present but didn’t snatch it away.

“Oh, okay,” Bucky relented and slid Clint’s gift back towards TJ.

Taking the present, TJ opened it and smiled at the sight of a set of coloring and painting books, along with a fresh set of crayons, markers, and paints. “These are cool!” TJ said happily, looking through the books to see the different images he’d be able to color and paint. “Thank you, Clint!”

Clint nodded and said, “well, I knew you like those and saw that you were going through yours so fast, thought you could use a few more?”

“They look so fun to color!” TJ commented, going through each book with a very wide smile. It took several minutes before he finally moved on to another gift, this one in a bag instead of wrapped with paper, the gift tag claiming it to be from Natasha. Removing the tissue paper, TJ’s eyes widened and he pulled out a brand new stuffed wolf, this one’s fur a mixture of grey, brown, and white. “Bucky! Look it! Look it!”

Eyes lighting up, Bucky reached out to gently stroke the wolf’s ears. “Oh, baby, so soft! That’s the best gift!”

“They are all the best!” TJ replied and then looked over at Natasha again, “I love him! He’s gonna be best friends with Luna and Bubbles. Thank you!”

Natasha smile happily, a very beautiful expression on her face, “I’m glad he has a home with you and Luna and Bubbles. I knew you’d take good care of him.”

TJ hugged the stuffed animal closely, “I’ll take very good care of him!”

Bucky settled back in his chair, easing his body slightly as he adjusted his position. Softly, he asked, “think he wants to go meet them right now? We can take a little break while I get up and walk some, baby?”

“Okay,” TJ nodded and instantly got up from his seat, running off to his room to introduce his stuff animals to their new friend.

“Hey, Buck, need some help?” Steve asked as he walked over to Bucky’s side.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed and accepted his boyfriend’s help to rise and began walking around. Since the explosion, Bucky needed to move around regularly to help his muscles from cramping painfully. “Thanks, Steve. Glad TJ’s so easy to please. Makes things easier.” He looked at the blond police artist and whispered, “strange as it sounds, you think these last few months might have been _good_ for him?”

“I think they might have,” Steve agreed with a nod, letting Bucky lean on him, “he’s gained some weight and his skin even looks a little healthier. And, he has better control over his muscles.” Steve knew that TJ would never be fully healed, the damage to his brain far too severe, but this gave him, and hopefully Bucky, hope that maybe TJ wouldn’t be as helpless and reliant on others as the doctors all feared.

“I think the virtual physical therapy sessions really worked out. I’ve arranged for us to do that still, see the therapist over the computer.” Bucky sighed and watched the doorway as he allowed Steve to walk him around, shooting a smile at Clint, Nat, and Loki as they passed the others.

“A very good idea,” Steve smiled, dropping a kiss on Bucky’s temple, “and you look so much happier, too, love.”

“I feel . . . better rested?” Bucky met Steve’s eyes. “I wish I’d never gotten hurt, but I think it forced me to rest and TJ to begin focusing. We’re coping and growing and can learn together.”

“This time away gave you both what you needed,” Steve agreed, “but, yeah, I wish it hadn’t come at the price of you being so hurt.”

Turning to look towards the door at the sound of TJ returning, the brunet smiled. “Hey, baby, how’s the new family member? Got a name for him, yet? He tell you?” Bucky called out.

“He told me his name is Grey, like his fur,” TJ answered, walking back out of his room, “he wanted to stay in with his new friends, Buck.”

“Well, he probably wants to rest in a real bed. He’s been so well behaved watching over the presents, hasn’t he?” Bucky leaned into Steve, smiling at his brother, looking less restless than he had when he’d called for the break.

“Yeah! Real good! Can we go back to opening presents now, Buck?” TJ asked, rocking on the balls of his feet excitedly.

“Can I get a hug?” Bucky asked, smiling happily. “Is that okay?”

Nodding, TJ hurried over and hugged his brother again, tucking his head under his brother’s chin. “I love you, Buck.”

“I love you, too, baby brother. My TJ.” Bucky wrapped his arm around TJ and hugged gently, always aware that TJ didn’t like hard movements or pressures. “Thanks for the hug. You wanna open Lucky’s gift next?”

“Yeah! I wanna open Lucky’s gift!” TJ pulled away and then rushed back to the table, calling, “Lucky! Gonna open your gift!”

Steve laughed softly and started helping Bucky back to the table where the others were already beginning to settle back down.

Loki plucked out the gift from the few left and handed it over with a smile. “I’m afraid I wasn’t very imaginative.”

Taking the gift with a wide, excited grin, TJ started to open it carefully, making sure not to rip the paper too much. TJ looked down at the school workbooks ranging from grades kindergarten through eighth grade and including all the different subjects, even printing and penmanship. “These are for me? You’ll help me, right, Lucky?” TJ opened the books and tilted his head when he saw a strange looking box with bars near each problem, “what’s these?”

Smiling widely, Loki reached over to the gifts left and took a bag. He pushed it to TJ and said, “the rest of my gift, TJ darling.”

Taking the bag, TJ removed the tissue paper to see a box of special pens and a device that looked like a phone but was specific to the learning books. “You’ll help me use it, Lucky?” TJ asked, looking up at his nurse.

Nodding, Loki moved to sit on TJ’s free side. “Let me show you, TJ.” He opened the box of pens and took one out. Opening the kindergarten level math book, he pointed to the first problem: one plus one. “Okay, take the pen and write your answer on the line next to the problem.”

TJ did as he was told, writing down a _‘2’_ in the space provided and then glanced back at Loki.

“Now, use the scanner and set it over the answer. Push the blue button,” Loki instructed, smiling.

Once again, TJ did as he was told, using the scanner over the answer to the problem.

The scanner lit up in a rainbow of colors and made a very soft chiming noise as the machine, in a friendly sounding voice resembling Loki’s said “that is correct.” Loki smiled at TJ. “If you get it wrong, turn the pen around and use the other side to erase the answer. You can try again and again and again. Now, put the scanner on the block of lines, called a barcode. And press the green button.”

Looking awed, TJ followed Loki’s instructions, pressing the green button over the barcode. The screen on the device lit up and showed a very friendly woman, dressed in a red cloak and surrounded by cartoon forest animals, showing how to do the problem.

“Wow,” TJ breathed out, looking at the scanner and then at Loki, “thanks, Lucky!”

“And, yes, TJ, I will help you with each and every one if you want. But if you wish to do any of these alone, or with someone else, you can do that. The scanner will help you. You can use the barcode to see how the problem is done and then answer the question and check it if you want.”

“It’s very cool! Thank you,” TJ grinned and then looked at Bucky, “see, Buck?”

Bucky used the back of his hand to wipe away forming tears. “It’s great, Teej! Thanks, Lucky! I know TJ’s been wanting to move at a faster or slower pace with his school work, right, baby?”

“Why are you crying? I do something wrong?” TJ asked, instantly sounding worried.

Hugging TJ, Bucky said, “I’m crying because I’m so very happy to be home with my baby brother and my friends. I’m happy to be able to see you get to learn and get gifts you can use and want. I’m happy, Teej, to be alive.” He nuzzled TJ’s neck and sighed. “My brother.”

Smiling again, TJ nuzzled back and then pulled away, “I get to open your present now, Buck!”

Nodding, Bucky let TJ go slowly through the remaining presents: the puzzle as well as other gifts. Finally, it was the gift they’d designated as for _‘eighteen year old TJ, not seventeen.’_ Bucky slid the wrapped box over. “Last one this birthday, Teej. Hope you like it.”

Taking the box, TJ opened it with as much care as he’d done the others, maybe even more so because of the wolf wrapping paper. Finally, he got the present unwrapped and blinked when he saw the cell phone. “It . . . it’s a phone like yours, Buck?” TJ asked.

Nodding, Bucky said, “yeah, so you could call me when I wasn’t home, at work or whatever? I . . .” Bucky looked at TJ and shrugged his shoulder, “if you don’t want it I can find something else?” Since he’d be home most of the time, TJ didn’t really need the phone.

Grinning, TJ shook his head and threw himself at Bucky, almost in his brother’s lap, “thank you, Buck! It’s the best present! I can call you no matter what!”

“That’s why I got it for you,” Bucky nodded, smiling in relief and hugging TJ, pulling the younger man the rest of the way onto his lap. “I love you so much.” He found he couldn’t say it enough, not since his own accident and near death.

Wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck, TJ nuzzled and let out a very pleased sounding noise, happy to be able to hug his brother again, to smell him and _feel_ him. “I love you, Buck. I never want you to leave again!”

“I might someday be able to work again, baby, but not for a very long time. Until then, we’ll work on healing together, okay? Therapy together?” Bucky stroked TJ’s back with his hand, nuzzling.

“Do it together, that’s the best way, huh, Buck?” TJ asked, pulling away so he could smile at his brother, pale eyes very happy.

“Together’s the best way,” Bucky confirmed. He smiled happily. “Always together, TJ. And now we’ve got a bigger family, right? Lucky and Steve and Nat and Clint . . .”

“Got a bigger family,” TJ agreed with a nod, “jus’ as good as our old one. Different. But jus’ as good.”

“Exactly, baby, we’ve got a family as good as the first one.” Bucky smiled at his friends, eyes falling on Loki, who’d been with them from the first, then on Steve, who was their newest member. “I’m happy, baby. You?”

“Very happy,” TJ nodded, letting his head fall on Bucky’s shoulder.


	10. Cats and Crooks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: Fear, Anxiety, Post Traumatic, Stalking, Crime, Violent Illness**

The next day, Steve came up shortly after breakfast and smiled at Loki and TJ at the table, using the workbooks Loki had gotten. He walked over to Bucky and said, “hey, Bucky . . . you think you’re ready for this today?” Steve carried his drawing supplies tucked under one arm.

Eyeing the art supplies, knowing it meant another trip into the horror of that last scene, Bucky nodded. “In the other room? Need to be close to my pail and bed,” the former cop said. He lifted his eyes to meet Steve’s, “please? Not in front of the others?”

“Of course, Buck,” Steve agreed readily, giving Bucky a sympathetic smile. “Your room?” Steve gestured with his free hand down the hall.

Nodding, Bucky turned to his brother and offered a smile, “gonna go to my room for a bit and talk with my boyfriend. Will you two be okay?”

Looking up from his workbook, TJ nodded, “okay, Buck. We’ll be here. Lucky’s here so I’ll be okay.”

Reaching over, Bucky ruffled TJ’s curls then headed down to his own bedroom, letting Steve follow him in. He got the pail and some towels and settled on the bed, in case he passed out. Finally ready, though extremely nervous, Bucky turned to Steve and whispered, “okay, ready, Stevie.”

Nodding, Steve settled on the foot of the bed and opened his sketchbook, flipping through the various scenes of the outside of the club that Bucky had remembered. “Okay, Bucky, gonna try something different. Instead of trying to remember the outside, can you remember anything from the inside? As you were heading towards the back?” Steve held his pencil against the blank page.

Swallowing, closing his eyes to aid in concentrating on just what he was requested to do, Bucky slowly said, “I ducked under the tape and walked in through the open door. There was the body right near the door, inside on the left when I came in. It was the bouncer, I’d been told. But . . . “ Bucky shook his head, eyes still closed, “I can’t see him. It’s blurry, Steve. And . . . and that damned cat was there. Just sitting there with that stupid grin on its face.” Every scene he recalled had the mysterious cat no one else remembered.

“Okay,” Steve switched from his normal routine and said, “Buck, what does the cat look like? What color is it? Is it fluffy or short-haired?”

Blinking his eyes open in surprise since this was the first time anyone had asked specifically about the cat, Bucky said, “it was white and held a fish? Had a fat tummy and a green bib and was sitting on its back legs, just grinning with wide eyes, blinking eyes? And it had its left paw in the air. The eyes would open and close and the paw go up and down.”

“Like one of those cat souvenirs you could pick up in Chinatown?” Steve asked.

Looking relieved, Bucky nodded, “yeah! A big one. Maybe the size of my chest? And it just kept grinning and the eyes blinked and the paw and there was this clicking noise every time it moved. It just sat there on the desk inside the inner office, facing the door and grinning.”

  
  


“My God, Bucky!” Steve sounded proud and happy, “I think you just remembered the explosive device! There is no record of one of those statutes from the owner!” Steve quickly finished up his drawing, the cat statue exactly how Bucky described it, sitting on the desk in the inner office.

Bucky looked at the drawing and passed out with a very small whimper.

Setting down the drawing, Steve got up and moved to the head of the bed, stroking his fingers down Bucky’s cheek, “it’s okay, Buck. Wake up, it’s okay.”

Opening pale blue eyes, gasping in terror and immediately sitting up and looking around, overbalancing so he fell to the right, Bucky clawed at the bed covers and said, “that damned cat . . .”

“You did so good, Buck! So very good! You know how important that is, what you just recalled?” Steve praised, stroking his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“That damned cat just kept clicking and waving,” Bucky sobbed. “It gave me the creeps. Reminded me of . . . so I picked it up to turn it around. Know I shouldn’t touch crime scenes, but it drove me nuts. And I picked it up and the pain and fire and . . .” Bucky gripped at Steve, crying and shaking.

“What did it remind you of?” Steve asked gently, running his hand up and down Bucky’s spine. “What did the cat remind you of, Bucky?”

Shaking his head, Bucky sobbed, “he’s gonna kill me . . . he’s . . . he’s been coming around, Stevie. I see him sometimes but he’s always gone before the cops get here. He’s gonna hurt TJ . . .” It wasn’t clear if Bucky had dissociated to his own abuse.

“Brock? Brock, baby? Is that who the cat reminds you of?” Steve asked softly.

“Car . . .” Bucky whispered then grabbed his pail and began heaving into it, hair clinging to his sweaty face and getting tangled in the way, covered in sick. Bucky tried to push it back, but there was no left hand and he sobbed harder, clutching his pail. “Wanna . . . cut . . . not . . . ‘lowed . . .”

Steve reached forward and pulled back Bucky’s hair, not caring about the sick that got on his hands. “We can get your hair cut, Bucky.”

“Likes . . . pull . . . when . . . rape . . .” Bucky buried his face in Steve’s shoulder, spilling the pail of sick, sobbing uncontrollably. “Hate . . . long . . .”

“Oh, Buck,” Steve cooed softly. He reached into the nightstand, remembering that Bucky kept some scissors there, and, without even asking, cut off a good bottom chunk of Bucky’s long hair.

Freezing, tear-swollen eyes opening and turning to Steve, Bucky whispered, “you . . . cut . . . it?”

“Yeah, Buck, I cut it. We can get it fixed later today to the style you want,” Steve smiled softly.

Since the pail had already spilled all over him, Bucky ignored it to throw his arm around Steve in a tight hug. He buried his face in the flesh of Steve’s neck and whispered, “thank you . . . . thank you . . .” Sobbing, Bucky said, “you . . . care . . . ‘bout . . . _me_.”

“I _love_ you,” Steve said softly, running his hand up and down Bucky’s back, holding the sick covered man closely.

“I love . . . you, too . . . Stevie,” Bucky whispered, calming a bit, his face flushed and swollen but smiling, smiling in such relief.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Steve said, aiding Bucky in standing up.

Bucky allowed Steve to help him, leaning on the strong blond as he’d grown accustomed to doing. Softly, as they headed for the bathroom, the brunet asked, “why do I think Brock’s cat was at the scene? He has this little tiny one in his car but it’s all I think about.”

“I don’t know, Bucky, but we’ll figure it out, together, okay?” Steve reassured his boyfriend.

“Yeah, together,” Bucky nodded and lifted his face. “Sorry I’m so fucked up, Steve. You’re damn good to me.”

“You’re not fucked up,” Steve said, dropping a kiss to Bucky’s temple.

Chuckling hoarsely, Bucky said, “I’m disgusting and you still act like I’m nice and clean and sweet. You’re as fucked up as me, aren’t you, Steve? I . . . I like not being the only one.” Bucky often cuddled TJ when he was at his most disgusting; it was nice to have someone do that for _him_ when he needed it.

“Well, takes one to know one, right?” Steve laughed softly.

Still laughing, Bucky whispered, “little punk.”

“Jerk,” Steve breathed out.

**************

TJ walked between Bucky and Loki, his eyes looking around nervously, but they had managed to get him out of the house without too much of a hassle that morning. His appointment with Cho had been great, as she saw all the progress the young man had made over the last few months, including the very much needed weight gain. Steve hadn’t been able to join them for the outing that Friday, having been needed at the precinct. But, TJ still felt excited, if a little nervous, about going back to the toy store. “We almost there, Buck?” TJ asked his older brother.

Nodding with his head, feeling freer and cooler with the very short buzz cut, Bucky lifted his right hand as well. “Right there, baby. See? Says it’s the toy store, right?”

“Yeah!” TJ grinned happily, walking up to the store and walking inside. He looked around the large toy store and grinned back at his brother. “It’s just like I remembered, Buck!” Luckily, it was earlier in the day so the store wasn’t too busy.

Bucky and Loki followed the younger man into the large store, Loki catching up quickly and reaching out to gently take TJ’s left hand. He smiled, “hold hands like boyfriends, darling?” he asked.

Grinning, TJ nodded, entwining his fingers with Loki’s. “I didn’t look at this side of the store last time, Lucky,” TJ said as they walked down an aisle of _LEGO_ sets.

“These are fun,” Bucky said behind TJ. “See? They have for all ages and different themes. Look, here’s a _Duplo_ set with Spider-Man!” Bucky reached over and picked up the toddler toy.

Grinning widely, TJ rushed over to Bucky, dragging Loki with him, “I like Spider-Man! Not as much as Captain America, but Spider-Man is funny and he’s _my_ age, Buck!”

“Yeah, he’s just the same age as you. Eighteen.” Bucky smiled as he pulled down another toddler _LEGO_ style set. “He lives with his Aunt May, right?”

“Uh huh, he lives with Aunt May and his best friend is Ned,” TJ answered. Doctor Cho had always been surprised at how much TJ remembered, especially from movies and TV shows he watched, despite having a hard time remembering things from before the accident.

“Well, he’s pretty lucky, then. Is Ned his boyfriend?” Bucky asked, finding all four _Duplo_ Spider-Man sets. He put them in a basket Loki had snagged on the way in. He felt surprised he hadn’t thought of _LEGOS_ earlier to help TJ with re-learning.

“I don’t think so. Spider-Man went to the dance with Liz, but I think he likes MJ, too,” TJ said, grinning when he saw Bucky put the sets in the basket. “Look!” TJ pointed at the more advanced sets, “that’s an _Avengers_ one!”

“Wow,” Bucky nodded, looking over the set labeled for fourteen and up. “I’d need you and Lucky and Steve to help me build that, won’t I? It’s the Avengers Helicarrier!” Glancing over at TJ, he asked, “wanna work our way up and try that one for your next birthday maybe? See if we like _LEGOS_ first?”

“Okay,” TJ agreed, not upset at all that they wouldn’t be getting the harder set that day. “We can build the Spider-Man one first!”

“Spider-Man first,” Bucky agreed, reaching for a slightly older set made for seven to ten year olds. “We can see if this one is fun. It’s got smaller pieces than the Spider-Man ones. First Spider-Man then this one? It’s Captain America and his motorcycle.”

“That one is so cool!” TJ exclaimed happily, looking over the set.

Loki finally interrupted and said, “I thought I saw something interesting. Wanna look, darling?”

Looking over at Loki, TJ nodded, “okay!”

The raven-haired nurse curled fingers with TJ once more and guided him over to the section containing children's instruments and lap-sized keyboards. Waiting for TJ’s reaction, Loki didn’t push for the young man to check anything out, merely standing there in front of the displays.

TJ tilted his head slightly, eyes locking on the piano, his fingers tapping against his thighs in a long forgotten rhythm. He walked up to the piano and carefully tapped one of the keys, a smile crossing his features when a pretty sound erupted from the instrument. “It sounds pretty, Lucky!”

“You like it? It’s a piano,” Loki responded, waiting to see if TJ recognized it at any time. Bucky watched, practically holding his breath in anticipation.

TJ tapped a few more keys, watching his own fingers intently. After a few moments and odd notes that didn’t really mix together, TJ started to play a very simple rhythm, something that a child might learn.

Bucky fought not to cry at TJ re-exploring a keyboard, his beloved piano, once more. Loki, on the other hand, stepped next to TJ and asked, “want it, darling? A boyfriend gift if you do.”

Looking up at Loki, TJ nodded and said, “please, Lucky? It makes pretty sounds! I can make pretty sounds!”

Smiling, Loki said, “Bucky says you used to play one when you were a kid. Maybe your hands remember that?” He slipped one of the boxes down and grabbed a few children’s piano lesson books.

“I’ll play again, huh?” TJ asked and then looked over at Bucky.

“You’ll play again,” Loki assured the younger man.

Bucky carefully hugged TJ, crying but smiling wide. “I want you to be happy, baby. And if you want to learn piano again, I want you to, too.”

“Why are you crying, Buck?” TJ asked.

“Happy, I’m happy. I cry when I’m happy,” Bucky laughed. “It’s so beautiful to see you happy, TJ, it makes me happy.”

Loki chuckled and rolled his eyes, “over-emotional brothers, huh, darling? Let’s get the _LEGOS_ and piano. Anything else you want to look at or wait until next time?”

“Wait until next time!” TJ grinned and then asked, “can we get strawberry ice cream?” The fact that TJ wanted to _stay_ out rather than go home after the store and his doctor appointment was a huge milestone.

“Yes,” Bucky and Loki said at the same time then Bucky laughed.

Loki carried the toys and the piano to the front checkout and arranged for everything to be delivered to the house. Bucky paid for the _LEGOS_ , but Loki, true to his offer, paid for the musical supplies. Bucky slipped a twenty dollar bill into TJ’s hand and whispered, “you pay for the ice cream, okay?”

Eyes widening in pure delight, TJ smiled widely, “okay!” He held the twenty dollar bill very carefully so he didn’t drop it.

Loki chuckled. “TJ, you can put it in your pocket if you want?” He opened his own pocket and slid his wallet into it to demonstrate. Then he paused. “Wait, you don’t have a wallet!” Loki shook his head and led the trio to the children’s wallets and similar stuff the toy store offered. He picked out a Captain America design. “This one?”

Grinning, TJ nodded, “that’s the coolest wallet ever!”

Bucky grinned and slipped TJ another twenty. “A man should buy his own wallet, right? Go ahead. We’re right behind you, Teej.”

TJ walked up to the cash register and smiled shyly at the clerk, the same friendly girl who’d been there during TJ’s last visit. The young man put the wallet on the counter and the woman rung it up, telling him his total. TJ handed over one of the twenties, his pale eyes moving between the money and the clerk. She took the bill and rang out the sale, never once rushing the man or making him feel bad. She gave TJ his change and even removed the packaging so TJ could use the wallet right away.

Bucky, from behind TJ, instructed, “put your change in the zipper part and the bills in the big pocket. Need help?”

Looking down at his new wallet, TJ did as Bucky instructed and put his change and bills away before sliding his wallet in his pocket.

“And your other twenty can go in there, too, Teej,” Bucky advised with a smile, swearing to himself to start giving TJ an allowance.

TJ pulled out the wallet again and slipped the other bill in as well. “I have a wallet now!”

Nodding, Bucky hugged TJ and said, “just like every other man, Teej! I’m so proud of you. You’re growing up so well, TJ!”

TJ hugged his brother in return before putting his wallet away and taking up Loki’s hand once more. “Let’s get ice cream! Bucky says I’ll pay ‘cause I have my own money, huh, Buck?” TJ looked so happy and relaxed despite being out in public.

Nodding, Bucky said, “that’s right. You’ve got enough money to pay for ice cream for all three of us. If you get stuck on the numbers just ask.” He followed the other pair from the toy store and down to the ice cream parlor with the outdoor seating. Somebody sat there eating ice cream, a golden retriever under his chair, apparently sleeping, dressed in an orange vest.

“It’s a dog, Buck!” TJ said happily though didn’t approach the sleeping animal.

Bucky looked over and said, “yes, that’s a service dog. It means he’s working, even if he’s taking a nap. He’s listening for when his partner, the human, needs him or has trouble. He helps his human do things so his human can work or go to the store or all kinds of things.” Bucky smiled at TJ. “Service dogs can help open doors and pick things up and answer doors, alert the human if some important sight or sound happens the human can’t detect, or even detect if the human’s going to have a medical problem like a seizure or . . . or . . . a panic attack . . .” the last was said softly as Bucky watched TJ intently.

“Oh, that’s a good dog,” TJ smiled at Bucky and then looked back at the sleeping service dog, “the dog should take naps ‘cause it sounds like they do a lot.”

Nodding, still watching TJ intently, Bucky said, “and when they’re at home, they get play time and time to be a pet and not work. Just like humans. TJ . . . service dogs and their humans go through special training for several months. So they can learn to work together.”

“Oh, okay,” TJ nodded and smiled at Bucky, “can we get ice cream, Buck?” TJ rocked on the balls of his feet.

“Just waiting on you, baby. You’re the one with the money, right?” Bucky asked, smiling at his brother as his mind raced over possibilities, costs, housing, licensing, training, and other things he’d have to check into. But, as long as he could get the ball rolling, maybe, just maybe, TJ could wind up even more independent with a service dog. Was he too severely handicapped for one? Bucky had to find out.

Walking into the ice cream parlor, TJ’s eyes scanned over the few people in the shop, though he managed to stay calm, walking directly up to the counter to look at the flavors though he knew which flavor he wanted. “What are you getting, Lucky?” TJ asked.

Still holding TJ’s hand, Loki said, “may I get strawberry and vanilla twist, please, boyfriend?” He smiled at TJ, gesturing to the soft serve ice cream.

“Oh! That sounds good! I want that, too!” TJ beamed brightly.

“Make that three,” Bucky called from behind his brother.

“Three strawberry and vanilla twists,” the man behind the counter smiled and turned to make the three cones, handing them off one at a time.

Bucky sank onto a chair at a corner table, one TJ could keep his back to the wall while sitting so he could see everyone. The former cop had to be careful eating, since he didn’t have a second hand to try to catch things with. He waited for TJ to bring him his share, watching intently in case his brother started having problems.

“Can you hold Bucky’s while I pay, Lucky?” TJ asked.

“I can do one better,” Loki said. He took Bucky’s and passed it to the seated man then took TJ’s as well, leaving the other man’s hands totally free. “How’s that, darling?”

“Thanks!” TJ beamed brightly and then looked back at the clerk behind the counter. The clerk told TJ the total for the three ice creams and patiently waited until TJ pulled out his wallet and handed over the twenty dollar bill Bucky had given him. After TJ received his change he carefully put it away in his wallet and slipped it back into his pocket. Taking his cold treat back from Loki, TJ sank into the seat next to Bucky, “is it good?” he asked.

“Delicious,” Bucky said after taking his first few licks. “Thanks for buying me ice cream, TJ. This is great.” He smiled happily, not minding in the least that he’d provided the money for TJ to use. The fact that TJ continually interacted outside the home offset any cost. Bucky decided to seriously check into a service dog for his brother, right after the next day’s prosthetic appointment.

Loki sank into the remaining chair, which boxed TJ in between the wall and Loki, keeping anyone from hitting into TJ’s right side. He smiled at TJ and said, “thank you, darling. I love ice cream.”

“Me too!” TJ agreed and started to carefully lick his sweet treat. “Vanilla and strawberry taste good together!”

“Yes, it does,” Bucky agreed. “How clever Lucky is to twist them.”

Loki shrugged and smiled, his ice-green eyes dancing. “I’ve tried numerous flavors twisted together.”

“Oh, okay,” TJ nodded as he continued to eat his ice cream. Several minutes later, TJ finished his treat and waited for the others to finish as well.

Once done, Loki got up and got some warm, damp paper towels and handed them around so the trio could clean up. He held one for Bucky so he could wash his fingers off before handing another over for Bucky’s face. Loki seemed to not be bothered that he’d wound up with two patients. His friend, Sam, came over evenings to help out while everyone, including Loki, napped, giving all three a break, turning Loki into the daytime nurse instead of the night nurse. After throwing away everyone’s trash, Loki stood and stretched, offering a hand to each brother to help them stand. “So, where to now, TJ?”

“I’m getting kinda tired, can we go home so I can take a nap?” TJ asked, taking Loki’s hand and standing up. The young man did look pretty tired from his long day.

“A nap sounds great. I think Bucky wants one, too,” Loki agreed. “Ask him?”

“Do you want a nap, Bucky?” TJ asked.

Bucky hid a yawn behind his hand and nodded. “Yeah, baby, a nap sounds great. Let’s go back home, ‘kay?” He smiled gently at TJ.

“Okay,” TJ agreed and then started walking back with Loki and Bucky in the direction of their home.

About halfway, a frighteningly familiar figure could be seen walking down the street towards them. Brock looked as if he didn’t even see the trio.

Bucky tugged on TJ’s shirt immediately, pulling his brother backwards into a store, ignoring that it sold adult toys and supplies. He watched warily out the window to keep an eye on Brock. Having not seen the other man, Loki followed, frowning in confusion and worry but not protesting.

Unluckily, it seemed like the very store Bucky had tugged TJ in, and inadvertently Loki, had been the exact store Brock had been heading to. He opened the door.

Bucky tugged TJ back further, right up to the counter, watching Brock to see if he’d back out since there was a restraining order.

Brock finally saw the trio and frowned, “don’t think this is a place for the kid, sport.” He didn’t try to approach them.

“Was being polite and getting off the street so you could pass without crossing. You go over to that shelving unit, and we’ll leave,” Bucky tried to sound calm and reasonable, a blinding flash of pain in his head making him go very pale.

Holding up both hands for Bucky to see, Brock took the requested steps back, “heard ‘bout the explosion, sport. Tough luck.”

Bucky shook his head, looking like he wanted to throw up. Loki instantly pushed both TJ and Bucky into the bathroom, shutting the door. He whirled around to face Brock and softly, calmly said, “might want to go to the back of the store or shop another day. Even that shelf is breaking your restraining order.”

“Never even understood why he put a restrainin’ order on me,” Brock grumbled.

“Tired and frightened and confused, a man can do many things. Please, I don’t want this to escalate if we can be amenable, Mr. Rumlow,” Loki said, staying in front of the bathroom door, hearing Bucky retching into the toilet.

Sighing, Brock shook his head, “fine, damn sad fuck anyways not worth any of the trouble. Whined when I got sick o’ him then cried rape.” Brock turned and walked towards the door.

“I’m sure you can find another, better boyfriend.” Loki watched intently, hand falling over his pocket in warning.

“I’m leaving,” Brock rolled his eyes and did just that, the door falling shut with a soft jingle of bells.

Technically, Loki or Bucky could have called the police the moment Brock hadn't turned right around and left the store. Loki decided Brock knew he’d pushed his luck, so mentally noted to report the incident just for the record. First, he’d take care of TJ and Bucky. Knocking softly, Loki said, “the bad man left. Is Bucky okay, darling?”

“He’s getting sick!” TJ whimpered, eyes wide and watching his brother, unsure what to do to help him.

“Okay, open the door so I can help him, TJ. You’re doing so good,” Loki soothed.

Whimpering softly, TJ nodded and hurried over to open the door for Loki. “Is he dying?” TJ asked, worriedly.

Smiling, Loki said, “nope. Tummy’s upset because he got scared of seeing the bad man. That’s all. Can you get some paper towels and make them wet then ring out the water and bring them over? I’ll check on Bucky and make sure he doesn’t need a doctor.” Loki stepped in the bathroom, making sure the lock stayed in the _open_ position.

“But . . . then the door will shut?” TJ whimpered, confused.

“Okay, TJ, look at the door for me. See that slide bar? If itt is slid to the red spot, the door is locked. The green spot is unlocked, okay?” Loki studied TJ then pulled out his own phone and handed it to TJ. “Here, press the star then the two.”

“Which one is the star?” TJ asked, looking at the phone with wide eyes.

Loki showed TJ how to hit the star on his screen, a phone not like TJ’s or Bucky’s. Once he heard the phone ringing, Loki turned back to care for TJ. “When Steve answers, just tell him about what happened, okay? All about everything.” He figured he could keep TJ distracted long enough to help Bucky then fill in the blanks for Steve after.

When Steve picked up, TJ immediately, without even letting the blond get in more than a hello, started to rush through all the events of the day, starting with waking up all the way to Brock’s sighting.

Bucky settled weakly against Loki, letting the nurse clean him up. Finally, the raven-haired man helped the brunet up and turned to smile encouragingly at TJ, nodding as he heard TJ’s descriptions. He figured Steve would forgive the work interruption when he realized TJ reported Brock breaking the restraining order. Bucky walked from the room with Loki, who carefully tugged TJ’s sleeve to get him to walk while talking.

Cutting off in the middle of what he’d been telling Steve, TJ looked at Bucky, “we’re in this shop with naked . . . Buck? Buck, you ‘kay?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m feeling better. Just got scared,” Bucky said, leaning into Loki. He trembled and still remained pale. “Wanna go home.”

“Buck wants to go home now, bye,” TJ said and then hung up without giving Steve a chance to reply or even talk with Bucky. “We go home now?” TJ looked between Loki and Bucky.

Loki took his phone and agreed. “Can you help Bucky, TJ? Let him lean on your left side. He’s very tired.” Loki offered TJ an encouraging smile.

Eyes widening, TJ asked, “what if I drop him?”

“I’ll catch him,” Loki reassured the other man. “But, don’t worry. I’ll be on his hurt side so you won’t drop him. Okay?”

“Okay . . .” TJ whimpered and let Bucky lean on him.

Bucky turned his face to nuzzle at TJ’s neck. “My beautiful baby brother. Thank you so much for helping me,” he said, weakly. “Such a good brother, TJ.” Bucky tried to take most of his own weight, knowing they didn’t have too much further to walk.

“Help Buck,” TJ nodded, his own lean body trembling just a bit but nothing to suggest that he might be heading towards a break down despite the scary encounter with Brock followed by Bucky getting so ill.

Within minutes, the trio got back to Steve’s duplex and climbed upstairs to the Barnes’ apartment. Loki had TJ help him settle Bucky in bed then said, “climb on up with him, darling. You can nap together, okay?”

Hurrying to do what he was told, TJ climbed up on the bed and snuggled up close to his brother’s side, laying his head on Bucky’s chest. “Nap together. Naps make everyone feel good.”

“Yeah, baby. Naps make everyone feel good. Thanks for napping with me.” Bucky stroked TJ’s curls carefully then fell into a doze.

Loki watched for a moment then walked out of the bedroom, leaving the door open. He called Steve back to explain everything to the police artist.

**************

When Steve came in from work, Bucky looked tired but much better than he had earlier. He sat at the table playing a board game with TJ, the stuffed animals sitting on the table as if watching.

“Hey, Buck, TJ,” Steve called, walking into the apartment; he looked worried.

“Steve,” Bucky looked up, looking well pleased his boyfriend had returned at that moment. “I had a horrible panic attack today but TJ and Loki took good care of me.”

“They did? That’s really good, thank you TJ,” Steve said, walking over to the table, dropping a kiss to the top of Bucky’s head.

“I take good care of Buck then we napped,” TJ said, looking up at Steve.

“Yeah, I’m so proud how TJ held it together to help me out. We saw Brock. Did Loki tell you?” Bucky lifted haunted light blue eyes, pushing his piece to its new location and handing the dice to TJ with a shaking hand.

“Yeah,” Steve slipped into the chair next to Bucky, watching as TJ rolled his dice and very carefully counted out the correct spaces to move. “He did, Buck. You alright?” Steve stroked his fingers down Bucky’s cheek.

“Had this bad image of Brock weaving through the cops at that damned club was all. Mind playing tricks on me.” Bucky sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Did they figure out if I really saw a cat at the club? Maybe put together whatever was left of the bomb?”

“Bucky, that’s something I wanna talk to you about . . .” Steve put a file carefully on the table, though didn’t open it due to the graphic images in the file. TJ didn’t need to see crime scene photos. “You remember the string of robberies, right?” Steve purposely left out the homicide portion of the crimes as well.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, “someone would come in, rob the place, then . . . rob a clerk after the event.” Bucky looked at Steve. Normally, he’d have taken the conversation to another room, but his body refused to cooperate after the severe shock and illness hours before.

“Well, you were _right_. They are all connected, we think,” Steve said, meeting Bucky’s eyes carefully.

“Loki, wanna play for me after all? Me and Steve are going to go talk work in the living room. TJ, you be nice to Loki and help him count the dice, okay?” Bucky watched Steve intently.

Nodding, Loki slipped into a chair and smiled, “you’ll help me, TJ?”

“I’ll help! I can count to twelve all by myself,” TJ assured his nurse and boyfriend.

Bucky looked up to Steve and asked, sounding casual, “can you help me to my chair in the other room?” Bucky scooped up the file but didn’t open it.

Nodding, Steve actually picked up Bucky and carried him, dropping a kiss to Bucky’s temple as he carried the brunet to the living room and eased him down on the couch. “I love you,” Steve breathed out.

  
  


Bucky leaned into Steve and let out a soft whimper, kissing Steve’s neck. “I love you, too, Stevie. God, I feel so safe with you.”

“I want you to be safe, that’s why I want to catch this guy,” Steve sighed and sat down next to Bucky. “Buck . . . we have a suspect.”

“You do?” Bucky drew in his breath, feeling hope radiate through him. He smiled widely and sat back against the couch cushions. “Am I allowed to know?”

“Not really, but I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” Steve replied, watching Bucky, his blue eyes intent.

Nodding, Bucky watched Steve intently. “Well, I’m certainly off the case. I’m on medical leave indefinitely until it’s determined whether I can recover enough to come back to the force or not. So, it’s not like I’ll be interfering. Oh, Steve, tomorrow I’m going to take TJ and Loki to my prosthetic appointment so TJ can see what it’s like and how it works. I want him to be comfortable with it if I decide to actually go with one. TJ seems upset every time I mention getting a new arm, actually. Go ahead and tell me your suspect. Who robbed those places and killed the clerks?” Bucky jumped from subject to subject.

“Brock Rumlow,” Steve answered and let that sink in.

After a moment, Bucky shook his head. “Nope, wrong suspect. Much as the man terrifies me, he didn’t do it. Anytime one of those calls came in, he was busy doing me in a back alley. Couldn’t rob and kill at those places and be with me. I’m his damned alibi.”

Nodding, Steve said, “we think Brock may be working with a partner. Does the name Jack Rollins mean anything to you?”

“Jack Rollins? Yeah, Brock lives with the guy over in Manhattan. Rollins works as a janitor or something for a custodian.” Bucky looked at Steve and slowly his eyes widened. “Wait, you think Rollins might have done something and Brock covered it up for him or something?”

“Yeah, we think that Rollins was the original robber and murderer and did it in an area where you and Brock would be the first ones on scene. Brock then robbed the corpse of anything worth taking,” Steve answered with a sigh and shake of his head. “There may even be more robberies and deaths linked in from before you were on the case.”

Opening his mouth automatically to defend his former partner and boyfriend, another cop, Bucky paused then shut his mouth. He softly asked, “you’ve got proof or you wouldn’t be saying this. Did one of the cameras really pick something up after all?”

“Brock robbed the bouncer that Jack killed at the club, there were functional cameras at the scene, Buck, just took IT this long to piece the footage back together enough so we can get some working shots,” Steve answered, meeting Bucky’s eyes.

“And . . .” Bucky swallowed and whispered, “the explosion? Did that get caught on film?”

“We’re working up to that still but they think it’s possible to get the footage of the bombing, yes, but as of right now we have Brock and Jack on a lot of charges. They arrested Jack this afternoon . . .” Steve let out a breath.

“And Brock? Will they pick up Brock as an accessory?” Bucky asked.

“The warrant has been issued but . . . we haven’t been able to find him yet,” Steve stroked Bucky’s hand.

“So, does it help that we saw him two blocks from here?” Bucky whispered, dreading the idea that Brock was so close - - but he couldn’t know what Bucky had just learned, and a twenty-four hour surveillance was on the place. Stiffening Bucky asked, “didn’t they cancel our twenty-four two days ago? It’s only a night watch now?” He looked at Steve, fear coursing through him.

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve nodded, “because nothing had happened in months,” he sighed and shook his head, “and they refused to put the twenty-four back on, saying it's a waste of resources. Captain Hill is furious.”

“Furious I wasted precinct funds?” Bucky breathed, burying his face in Steve’s shoulder. “And wasn’t on the job for her long at all.”

“No, furious that the board wouldn’t approve the twenty-four hour watch,” Steve said, dropping a kiss to Bucky’s head. “She’s scared for you and TJ and doesn’t want either of you hurt any more than you already are.”

“Well, at least we still have the night watch for a bit. That should help, right?” Bucky breathed into Steve’s shoulder, trying to control his trembling, his fear. “They’ll find him soon and things will be okay. Best thing is to go about our normal schedule.”

“We’ll catch him. The entire force is looking for him. They want both men who are responsible for the club bombing off the streets,” Steve shook his head.

“So, they think the bombing was two . . . they really think Brock helped with that?” Bucky sighed. So far, his ex had been accused of robbery and covering for another crime, but nothing dangerous.

“We think they got nervous about you sniffing around, connecting the dots, so they wanted to take you out,” Steve ran his fingers up and down Bucky’s back.

“Wait . . .” Bucky lifted his head, eyes widening in true horror. “They think the bomb was deliberately set for _me_? How’d they even have a clue I’d be assigned that call? And Nat was there. She could have been the one to go inside while I stayed outside. It’s what I normally did, after all, stay outside.”

“Like I said before, Buck, the bomb was rigged with a remote explosive, meaning _they_ triggered it. They were watching the scene,” Steve pointed out again.

“But . . . Brock bombing me? Bombing a building with people inside? He _robbed some bodies_ , why would he go to _bombing_?” Bucky trembled and whispered, “Was he in on the murder thing the entire time? Not just the robbery part? Did he . . . set those killings up? My God, Steve, what else has he done? Who else has he hurt?”

“We aren’t sure and Jack isn’t talking,” Steve shook his head, frowning fiercely, “I would suggest taking TJ and Loki and you to a hotel for a few nights while they catch Brock, but I know TJ may not go for that . . .”

Bucky pushed to his feet and said, “we can try it, at least. Look, Steve, do me a favor? Pack up TJ’s favorite toys and pictures? Pack some of his clothes, including his safe pajamas with the baby wolves? Put his piano next to it and his new _LEGOS_. I’ll at least get him to talk about it, okay?”

“Of course, Buck,” Steve got to his feet as well and pressed his lips to Bucky’s, “I’ll go do that right now. Can you make it back to the dining table?”

Nodding, Bucky stood, carefully balancing, then said, “yeah, got my balance.” He smiled grimly at Steve, determination in his eyes. “I’ll make sure we go to a hotel, a nice one, until that bastard is caught. Then, we don’t have to worry about a twenty-four. We’ll have hotel security and all.” Bucky turned and headed to the kitchen, smiling widely. “Hey, guys. Who’s winning?”

“I’m winning, Buck!” TJ grinned happily over at his brother.

“Great!” He hadn’t shut the door so TJ could see Steve stacking things in the living room. Bucky smiled and stroked TJ’s back. “Know how we saw the bad man today and I got so sick?”

“Yeah, I remember, Buck,” TJ said, and his eyes flickered to where he saw Steve putting his keyboard and the _LEGO_ sets near the door. “Why is Steve taking my toys?”

Laughing softly, Bucky said, “Steve’s not taking your toys, baby. He’s putting them where we can get to them easy. You see, I was thinking we could go to a hotel, like when we were little. You know, in a nice room where the bad man won’t see us. Steve says the police are going to arrest him and they don’t want us around when they do it, so it’d be best if we’re out of the house a few days. What do you think? We can get a ground floor room.”

“Out . . . of the house?” TJ whimpered softly.

Stroking TJ’s cheek, Bucky said, “not too far out, baby. We can walk there. It will be right near where Helen works. And we can get a room on the first floor. No steps or elevators. Okay?” Bucky touched foreheads. “Just for a few days?”

“And . . . I - - I can bring Bubbles and Grey and Luna?” TJ asked, worrying at his bottom lip, pale eyes worried.

“If you try to leave them behind, we’ll all be upset,” Bucky promised. “Steve’s packing your favorite clothes and toys right now. Want to help me pack mine? Not a lot, just enough for a few days.”

“O - - okay,” TJ murmured, his fingers drumming against his thighs, and then looked to Loki, “you’ll be coming with us, too, right?”

“You bet,” Loki said. “Steve’s coming, too, right?” He smiled towards Steve in the other room.

Bucky looked over. “You’re coming, too, right, Steve?” he called out. “A mini-holiday for the four of us, despite you working?”

“Yup! Wouldn’t want to miss out on a super fun vacation. Maybe we can go to a hotel with a pool?” Steve grinned over at the trio in the dining room, though his blue eyes still looked worried.

Bucky looked back at TJ and smiled. “Help me pack? Loki can pack a few things then we can all go invade Steve’s floor and help him pack?” Bucky stroked TJ’s cheek.

“O - - okay,” TJ said softly, slipping out of his chair, leaving the unfinished game on the table. “I help Buck pack . . .” it was clear that the brunet felt nervous but willing to do what Bucky wanted.

Bucky followed his brother to the other room, letting Loki clean up the game and put it away.


	11. Lows and Highs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: Fear, Anxiety, Post Traumatic, Crime, Stalking, Illness, Over-use of Sunscreen**

It took an hour in all before they had enough packed for a week of hotel stay, and also had a good range of toys, including the stuffed animals and piano. Bucky had a large duffel slung over his right shoulder while TJ had his toys in a box. Loki called for Scott to come, just to transport stuff, so they didn’t have to try to lug it all. Bucky couldn’t shake the fear that as soon as the cop left in the morning at the end of his watch, Brock would be around to harass them once more.

Smiling at TJ, Bucky said, “ever thought you’d take a van for a walk, baby?”

“No, Buck,” TJ murmured and leaned in close to Bucky’s side, “is a hotel scary, Buck?”

A familiar voice called to them as Sam Wilson, the new night nurse, strode up, smiling widely. “Hotel? Nah, those aren’t scary. Need help, big man?” He offered to take the box from TJ, not questioning why the group suddenly left home without warning.

TJ nodded, handing off the box to Sam but grabbing Luna off the top to hold close to his chest, “Steve said the one we’re going to has a pool . . .”

“A pool?” Sam grinned and grabbed out Bubbles and Grey to hand over as well. “Here, you need the entire pack, my man. Do you swim or just like to sit in the water and float a bit like you’re in outer space?”

“I don’t know if I can swim . . .” TJ answered, looking over at Bucky as he held all three stuffed animals.

Bucky smiled and said, “used to. Maybe we can learn again, together?” He didn’t reach out since he had to balance the large bag, but he did move a bit closer and lean in enough to tap his forehead to TJ’s left temple. “Love you, baby. So brave going to a hotel with me. Such a brave, smart man.”

“I’m scared, Buck,” TJ whimpered softly, meeting his brother’s eyes.

Nodding, Bucky said, “TJ, the cops think Brock wants to hurt me. That’s why we’re going to the hotel. Okay? So Brock can’t find us while they arrest him. I know it’s scary, but I want us all safe. In a few days, we can come home.”

“Promise, Buck?” TJ asked softly.

“I promise, TJ, that as long as we have a home to come to, we’ll always come home.” Bucky smiled and bumped his head gently against TJ’s once more. “You know, cats headbutt, right, baby? To say _’hello, I love you’_?”

A very small smile flickered across TJ’s features before he gently bumped his forehead against Bucky’s.

After Scott pulled up, Steve helped load up the vehicle and then carefully started to ease the duffel off Bucky’s shoulder.

Jumping slightly at the unexpected action, Bucky let the bag go with a soft smile. “Thanks, Steve. This way I can touch TJ. It makes me happy to be able to touch my brother. How about you, Teej?”

TJ nodded and slid even closer to Bucky, watching as the last of their things were loaded into Scott’s van. “I love you, Buck . . .”

Gently headbutting his brother’s left temple, Bucky said, “I love you, too.” He began walking, guiding the small group down the street towards the chosen hotel. He shot a smile towards Scott who followed alongside in the van, slowly. No one insisted TJ get in the vehicle. It took only minutes to get to the chosen hotel, just two buildings away from Dr. Cho’s building.

Taking a breath, Bucky looked at TJ and said, “ready, baby? We’ve already got a reservation. Called as soon as you agreed to go. All we have to do is go in, get our key, and go to our room, okay?”

“Okay,” TJ let out a shuddering breath, holding his stuffed animals closely as they stepped into the hotel lobby. TJ worried at his bottom lip, his eyes scanning around the lobby; a few groups sat in chairs or stood, chatting idly with one another, and a few people looked at the new group entering the hotel but didn’t let their eyes linger very long.

Bucky smiled and led his brother up to the check in desk. He stayed close to his brother. “You made it across the lobby. So brave, so good.” Bucky smiled at TJ and said, “want me to talk to the clerk or do you want to, baby?”

“You talk,” TJ said so softly that it sounded barely above a breath. His eyes flickered up to look at the friendly night manager and then they fell once more, putting his face in the stuffed animals’ fur.

Nodding, Bucky said, “hello. We’re the Laufeyson party. We have a ground floor, handicapped suite for a week? There’s four of us staying and a nurse coming in to check on us at nights? So, I guess five of us?”

The night manager quickly typed in things on his computer and then nodded, “ah, yes, there you guys are.”

“And we have a restraining order against Officer Brock Rumlow for stalking and endangerment. Hotel security said that can be accommodated?” Bucky added.

“Yes, of course,” the manager nodded, “I see a note has already been added. Do not worry, you will be kept safe here.”

“Hear that, baby? We’re safe here.” Bucky smiled at his brother.

“Safe,” TJ murmured, not lifting his face from the stuffed animals’ fur.

“How many keys would you like, Sir?” The manager asked.

“Five, since there are five of us and the nurse needs to come and go for shift?” Bucky asked. “And the pool. Is it also ground floor? Inside, right? So it’s secure?” He kept his hand on TJ’s arm. The brothers obviously had been through a lot.

“Yes, ground floor and indoors, also kept a very nice, comfortable temperature,” the manager nodded, sliding five room keys for the group across the machine to imprint the room codes. “Also, we have a complimentary buffet breakfast from five to ten in the morning.”

Bucky smiled widely, “that’s wonderful. Thanks!” He watched the man working on the keys for their group. “Okay, let’s help Scott get everything to our suite, okay? Then we can settle in and get some dinner. When’s the restaurant close, sir?” Bucky looked at the night manager.

“It closes at eleven,” the manager looked at his watch and smiled, “I believe your group will have time to enjoy our discounted drinks and appetizers, as well.”

“Thank you. TJ? Restaurant or room service?” Bucky looked at his little brother, giving him the choice of being in a group or being in their suite.

“Can . . . can we pick after we put our stuff in the room?” TJ asked softly, looking at the manager again and flushing, ducking his head once more.

“Yup,” Bucky said and turned to the manager. “Thank you so much. Please alert the staff that the suite has two people with severe anxiety and post traumatic disorder, so to not call or knock. If we need something, we’ll alert the front desk or room service, okay? If we take down the _’do not disturb sign’_ , they can knock.”

“Yes, of course,” the manager smiled at Bucky and then put the five plastic key cards in an envelope, “you will be in suite one-oh-nine.”

“Thank you, sir.” Bucky handed the envelope to TJ. “The keys, baby. You can hand them out to everyone. Remember, one-oh-nine is our room this week, okay?” Bucky turned TJ gently and guided his group down towards their suite.

“One-oh-nine,” TJ repeated, huddling close to Loki once he came close enough, a very light tremor running through his body.

They got to the suite and Bucky said, “keys, baby?” No one other than their own group stood in that corridor. “Hand out the cards to everyone?”

Nodding, TJ moved the stuffed animals to one arm so he could fish out all the keys and pass them out. His pale eyes scanned the corridor.

“TJ, want to learn how to use the key tomorrow? Tonight we can settle in, order food, and just rest?” Bucky carefully ran his keycard in the door slot then grabbed the handle and opened it, pleased that the door worked so smoothly. He allowed TJ to walk in after Loki, the raven-haired man turning on every light, including in the bathroom and both bedrooms, as he walked through the suite.

TJ looked in every room, keeping very close to Loki the entire time, “it’s . . . not so scary?”

Loki smiled and opened each closet and dresser drawer in both rooms as well as the beautiful bathroom with the deep, whirlpool tub that could hold two full grown men. “It’s pretty nice.” He led TJ to the back sliding door and showed him how to put the safety bar over the lock and stick it in the wall so the door couldn’t be opened from either the outside or inside. He then pulled the curtains closed over the door so no one could even look in. “I think it’s a nice suite. What do you think, TJ?” The raven-haired man smiled at his platonic boyfriend.

“It’s . . . okay,” TJ murmured, “I like our house better, but it’s okay.”

Loki nodded. “So, the big question is who sleeps in which room? We have two rooms and two big beds.” Loki looked at TJ. “Wanna choose for us?”

Scott and Sam began unloading clothes, toys, and some of the pictures and photo albums from the van. Bucky had made sure they had anything TJ might need to calm him down. Last unloaded was the satchel of TJ’s new workbooks and the piano and music books. Loki carried the large over-shoulder bag of medicines for both brothers.

TJ looked in both rooms and they were both pretty similar. After a long while, the young man finally picked one, “this one?”

“This one for whom, darling?” Loki asked, watching TJ’s face with a smile.

“For us?” TJ asked, looking up at Loki.

Smile widening, Loki nodded. “I’d like that, baby. I would love to share a bed with you. Make sure to hold you if the bad dreams come during the nap times. You don’t mind if Steve and Bucky share the other bed?” He settled the medicine bag down on a chair.

“No, they can share, that way Steve helps with Bucky’s nightmares,” TJ said, walking over to the neatly made bed and carefully setting his stuffed animals on it.

Loki slid his arms around TJ in a gentle cuddle. “Want to make sure to move your toys and stuff in here out of the way? Just like back home?” None of the people who dealt with TJ made the man feel ashamed for playing with toys.

“Out of the way?” TJ looked at the stuffed animals on the bed.

“Yeah, did you see? Scott’s pretty sloppy. He put the boxes where everyone wants to walk.” Loki turned TJ to show him the boxes of stuff out the door in the living area.

“Oh, okay,” TJ nodded and then turned to go pick up the first of his boxes, moving them into the bedroom. Steve came to help shortly after and soon all the boxes were in the appropriate rooms.

Finally, Bucky brought a menu over to TJ and handed it to him. “What do you want to eat, baby? We can have them deliver it to the room.”

TJ took the menu from Bucky and looked it over; after several moments of reading the different options, TJ asked, “can I have a grilled cheese with fries and fruit, Buck?”

Nodding, Bucky said, “I want the same, I think. Anyone else want dinner? We’re getting delivery.” He headbutted his brother carefully then walked back into the main room to let the others see the menu.

“I’ll have the cheeseburger, that sounds pretty good,” Steve said after reading over the menu. He gave Bucky a smile and then kissed his temple.

Bucky smiled and handed the menu to Loki, who picked up the hotel phone and placed their order, his own a salad and fruit with cream for dessert. Hanging up, the nurse turned to look over the group and asked, “TJ, how awake are you. It’s not nap time, but if you want, you can nap.”

“I’m not tired yet,” TJ answered, looking over at his nurse. “It’s not medicine time, either.”

“Nope, so want to pick something to do while we wait for dinner? Game? Music? Coloring?” Loki gestured towards the table with four chairs, Sam settling on pulling over a big chair from Steve and Bucky’s bedroom for himself.

“A game?” TJ offered, looking at the others.

“Do we want to play a dice game or a card game or a board game?” Sam asked from where he sat. He hadn’t ordered food because he wasn’t hungry yet.

“Board game, maybe?” TJ said.

“Great idea,” Bucky praised. He hugged TJ and whispered, “thank you for being so brave to come to the hotel, baby. I really appreciate you doing this for me. I was so scared at home because he’s still out there. I can’t wait for them to arrest him.” Bucky met TJ’s eyes. “You’re the best brother ever, Teej.”

“Not uh, you’re the best brother ever,” TJ countered, bumping his forehead against Bucky’s temple with a smile.

**************

Bucky checked the clock, surprised it was only noon. He looked over at TJ and asked, “see? Not so scary huh? A new arm that _isn’t_ a pirate hook.”

TJ’s eyes widened and his fingers carefully reached out to trail over the smooth metal plates of Bucky’s new arm. “You’re . . . part robot! Like the Winter Soldier, Buck!”

Smiling and nodding, relaxing as the prototype bio-mechanical arm moved smoothly, Bucky said, “I think I like that, TJ. I feel more and more like a hero every day. Maybe someday I’ll be a _real_ hero.” Bucky closed his fist to a very soft whir of metal plates and gears then opened his fingers again.

“You are a real hero, Buck! You catch bad guys!” TJ insisted with a wide smile as he heard the gears working. “You can really catch them now! All ya gotta do is hit ‘em!”

Laughing, Bucky said, “that means I have to go back to work, baby. Do you _want_ me going back to work?” Bucky lifted his eyes to meet TJ’s. He’d been toying with the idea of staying home to care for his brother full time, but he did miss his job, too.

“Maybe you can write a book? Like the books I read, that’d be cool, huh? Write about how you’re a superhero!” TJ grinned widely, his pale eyes happy and excited.

“Writing about being a cop?” Bucky looked surprised then thoughtful. “You think people would want to read it?” Bucky stood and nodded his gratitude to Dr. Cho, who’d given them extra time to talk after the appointment. She smiled back at the pair.

“I’d read it, Buck! You’d read it too, huh, Dr. Cho?” TJ asked, looking over at his doctor.

“I think more people than you know would want to know about the life of a cop, as well as the survival of such a brutal crime. How you and your brother cope from your individual injuries and stressors. I think the both of you should definitely consider a book.” Helen smiled and opened the door to the fitting room. “And I’d be first in line to read it. If you want someone to help with the medical parts, I can help out.”

“You can write a book and maybe even meet Captain America ‘cause he’d want to meet a hero like you ‘cause he’d read your book, too, Buck!” TJ grinned, walking out with his brother.

Laughing, Bucky said, “and have him mistaken me for the Winter Soldier?” He clenched his fist and released it again. Walking from the clinic, Bucky frowned as he saw fire trucks and cop cars roaring down the street.

Just then, Bucky’s cell phone rang.

Pulling out his phone, Bucky swiped and answered, “hello?” He watched the emergency vehicles disappear down the block.

“Barnes, it’s Captain Hill,” the woman’s voice came through the speaker, as well as sounds of sirens and a very busy crime scene.

“Captain? How can I help? I just got fitted for that new arm . . .” Bucky glanced towards his brother, worry in his pale eyes.

“We’ve arrested Brock Rumlow. He . . . I caught him attempting to plant a bomb at your residence,” Hill answered bluntly.

“You . . . what?” Bucky stumbled then sank to sit on the sidewalk, ignoring anyone glaring at him as they moved around the shocked man. Pale and trembling, Bucky reached out for TJ with a whimper. “You sure? You caught him?”

“Yes, Barnes, he’s in custody and the bomb squad is currently removing the device from the home. It looks like a bomb that was implanted in one of those cheap Chinatown cat souvenirs.” Hill answered.

“Cat souvenirs?” Bucky put his forehead on his knees and moaned, “Teej? Baby? Call Steve? Call Loki?”

TJ immediately did what Bucky told him to, calling Loki first.

“Ma’am,” Bucky fought to keep down the bile as he whispered into his phone speaker, “there was a cat at the club. In the back room. I saw it.”

“Yes, we’ve been getting Mr. Rogers’ sketches from you, Barnes. This links Rumlow to the club bombing. He’ll go away for life, just like his partner, Rollins,” Hill assured the shaken brunet.

Behind Bucky, standing and trembling, TJ waited for Loki to pick up before saying, “Buck’s on the ground and sick and there’s a bunch of fire trucks and police! Buck said to call you!”

“TJ, darling,” Loki’s voice sounded calm and controlled, soothing, “where are you right now? Look around and tell me what building is next to you.”

“Dr. Cho’s office! I - - Buck’s sad ‘gain!” TJ whimpered, looking down at his brother.

“TJ, open the door to Dr. Cho’s office and tell them you need help for Bucky. Stand in the doorway so you can keep watch on Bucky. I’m on my way there right now. Okay?” Loki still sounded calm, not sounding worried or hurried at all.

“Okay . . .” TJ whimpered and walked over to the doorway, calling inside, “Buck needs help! He’s sad and sick!”

Dr. Cho and two others ran out and helped get Bucky and TJ back into the office and to Dr. Cho’s regular room. Helen thanked the others and turned to TJ, watching as Bucky lay down on the exam bed and trembled, holding the phone to his ear still. “TJ, what happened?” Helen asked, pulling out her vital signs machine.

“He got a phone call and fell down!” TJ wrapped his arms around himself, whimpering softly.

“Okay, TJ, you’re doing good. See, Bucky’s awake and not throwing up, right? He’s still talking.” She reached out and stroked TJ’s left hand to comfort him. “I think he was surprised by something and fell down. I’ve done that before. Have you?” Dr. Cho checked Bucky’s vitals and nodded in relief.

Over the line, Hill advised, “Barnes, I would stay at the hotel for the remainder of the week, but by then, we should be done with the investigation and you all will be free to go home.”

“And Steve’s been told? Officer Rogers? It’s his house. We’re renting the upstairs from him,” Bucky said, taking slow breaths, his color going back to near normal, his trembling easing.

“Officer Rogers has been informed but he received a phone call and left the scene, worried about a boyfriend,” Hill’s voice was near teasing.

“He’s on his way here?” Bucky sounded even more relieved. “Thanks, ma’am! We’ll stay at the hotel until you tell us it’s clear. Was there any damage?” He hated to think what might have happened if he hadn’t had that bad panic attack and forced everyone into a hotel the night before.

“None at all. I was doing a drive-by and saw him exiting the building. He was arrested and, because of suspicious over his involvement in the club bombing, I asked bomb squad to do a sweep. The bomb was . . . was in your brother’s room, Barnes, though Rumlow claims he didn’t do it.” Hill let out a sigh.

Eyes shooting over to TJ, Bucky couldn’t help the gasp of horror. He whispered, “thanks. Ma’am. I . . . I’m still out on disability and recovery, right? Even with the new arm?” At the least, Bucky would need time to adjust and get therapy with the arm.

“Of course,” Hill sounded as if she nodded, “you are on leave until your doctor signs you off to come back. But, Barnes, don’t rush it. Take your time.”

“Thanks, ma’am. Thanks for the update. And thanks for checking on things. Guess in the future they might listen when you say a full watch is needed?” Bucky laughed, but it sounded strained and weak. Finally, he said goodbye and hung up. Bucky turned, dropping his phone to his lap, and wrapped his right arm around his brother, sobbing against TJ’s neck. “I love you so much!”

“Why are you crying?” TJ asked, hugging his brother in return.

“Because I’m happy again?” Bucky asked, lifting his face. “They caught Brock. They caught the bad man and locked him up, baby. He’s in jail.”

“He’s away? He’s not gonna hurt you ‘gain, Buck?” TJ asked.

“I have to go to court to testify when they tell me to, to tell the judge what he did, but, yeah, Teej. He’s locked away and can’t hurt us anymore.” Bucky smiled at TJ, hugging him again. “The bad boyfriend is gone for good, Teej.”

**************

Bucky sat, staring off into his own thoughts, right hand suspended in midair with a shiny silver and gold ball. He sat before the Christmas tree, frozen in the past during the act of decorating with his brother. Unaware, Bucky relived the horrifying phone call he’d received not even an hour before. Jack Rollins had been killed in a prison fight and Brock Rumlow was in the hospital ward of the same prison - - asking to speak to Bucky.

“Buck, what’s wrong?” Steve asked, walking back into the room with a tray of snacks. He set the tray on the coffee table before crouching down in front of his boyfriend.

Shaking himself, coming back out of the confusing, horrifying phone call, Bucky sighed and blinked at the ball in his hand. “Just . . . thinkin’.” He had no idea how haunted his own eyes looked.

“Thinking about what?” Steve asked, putting a hand on Bucky’s knee, blue eyes worried. TJ continued to hang ornaments behind Steve, oblivious to the serious conversation going on.

“The call from the prison,” Bucky sighed. “I don’t know if I should go see him or not.”

“See who?” Steve frowned softly, tilting his head as he watched his lover closely, searching his features for the answer.

“The prison called and told me that Rollins was killed in a fight and Brock was hurt. He’s in the hospital ward and asking for me. The prison called to let me know,” Bucky lowered the hand with the ball in it.

“Brock . . . wants to see you?” Steve asked with a frown, “and . . . are you going to see him?” Steve didn’t let Bucky know what he thought, wanting Bucky’s answer first.

“He can’t hurt me in there, you know? And the relations contact said Brock sounded desperate. He didn’t want to talk to anyone but me . . . not even his lawyer.” Bucky met Steve’s eyes, worrying at his bottom lip.

“You want to go,” Steve murmured, stroking his fingers over Bucky’s knee, not sounding upset or angry with Bucky.

Nodding, Bucky said, “see him again, prove to myself it’s over and he has no hold on me? Yeah, I think I need to, Steve.”

“I can watch TJ, Buck,” Steve offered softly, giving Bucky’s knee a reassuring squeeze. “This is something you need to do for yourself and I know you’ll be safe. They aren’t going to let him hurt you.”

Nodding, Bucky leaned into Steve and whispered, “why would he call me just to attack or harass, right? It’s not logical, right?”

“Not at all,” Steve agreed with a nod, dropping a kiss to Bucky’s cheek. “You should get going, Buck, if you wanna be back before dinner and _Elf_.” Steve gave Bucky a small smile.

Drawing a breath, Bucky looked at the ball in his hand then lifted it and hung it up high, right in front, where he knew it would annoy TJ. He also knew his brother wouldn’t take it down, but, when seeing Bucky next, insist he move it to a better ball location. “Okay, be back by dinner. I’ll call or text to tell you what he wanted.” Bucky brushed his hands down his trousers and called, “be back soon, Teej. Gotta go out for a bit. I’ll pick up some dessert.”

“Get gingerbread!” TJ called, too distracted by his task of hanging the ornaments to hug his brother. “That’s what you have around Christmas, Buck!”

“Oh, maybe a gingerbread kit so we can make a house or sled or something?” Bucky offered.

“Yeah!” TJ agreed excitedly, “that’d be cool! Be safe, Buck!”

Steve kissed Bucky’s cheek, “I love you,” he murmured, stroking down Bucky’s spine.

“Love you both,” Bucky smiled back. He carefully pulled on his jacket over his prosthetic arm then his flesh arm. Pocketing his wallet and keys, Bucky headed outside, dialing Scott for a ride to the prison. He then called the prison back, the number he's been given, and agreed to come visit Brock for a half hour maximum, unsure how he felt when the representative promised to arrange it for that day; Bucky knew that most often visits had to be planned well in advance for prisons.

Within half an hour, Bucky sank onto the hard plastic chair on the visitor’s side of the divider, separating him from the inmates. He’d agreed to relinquish his metal prosthetic while visiting, not bothering to throw a fit about his rights to his medical appendage. Bucky just wanted the visit over.

Only a few more minutes passed before Bucky’s ex-partner sank down across from him, his features almost unrecognizable under all the swelling and bruising. “How you’ve been, sport?” Brock rasped, his dark eyes searching Bucky’s face.

Able to hear through the speaker, Bucky nodded and said, “not sure how you want me to answer that. I’ve been coping since the bomb and nearly losing my home and job, though I’m on medical leave indefinitely. Not getting raped all the time helps.”

Sighing, Brock shook his head and murmured, “this . . . things weren’t supposed to go down this way, sport. Jackie’s dead . . . and I ain’t that far behind him.” The older man sounded genuinely guilty for what he’d had a hand in putting Bucky through.

“You don’t look about to die, Brock,” Bucky said, worried suddenly despite himself.

“Sport, you really think Jackie died in a random prison attack? C’mon, I know I trained you better than that,” Brock meet Bucky’s eyes through the thick barrier. “There was nothing random ‘bout it. How’s the kid doin’?”

“He’s afraid of having another birthday since I blew up on his last one,” Bucky growled. “You aren’t going to talk me into lessening my charges, Brock. You’re never going to threaten or hurt me or my brother again.”

“Sport, I ain’t even gonna be around for the trial. Don’t worry. Soon you’ll never have to worry about me again. But . . . Barnes, you have to hear me out. I had _nothing_ to do with that damn bomb at the club,” Brock leaned forward with a wince.

“Really? And the bomb at my apartment? Not you, either?” Bucky asked, frowning.

“Bomb at your apartment? Why the hell would I put a bomb in your apartment? Risk blowing up your kid brother?” Brock shook his head.

“Don’t know, Brock, but it’s the same Lucky Cat as the club and your dashboard.” Bucky leaned forward without thinking but didn’t touch the shatterproof plastic barrier.

“You mean the same Lucky Cat that anyone walkin’ down Chinatown can buy?” Brock frowned softly and sighed, “look, we don’t got a lot of time. I didn’t call you down here for you to forgive me. I fucked up. I hurt you. I did that and I ain’t asking you to lessen the charges on me. When I die, I know where I’m going. I wanted to _warn_ you.”

Swallowing his own bitter arguments, Bucky asked, softly, “warn me? About what?”

“Do you honestly think this all ends with Jackie and me?” Brock ran his bruised fingers through his dark hair. Bucky could see that the man trembled slightly; Brock was definitely scared of something. “This is so much bigger than you and me.”

“Still listening, Brock. You’re trying to warn me but all I’m hearing is how bad it is, not what _it_ is.” Bucky studied his former partner and boyfriend.

“Jesus,” Brock growled and leaned forward more, hissing, “Jackie and I are jus’ the tip of the fucking iceberg, Barnes. There are things you don’t know, and it’s better that way. But, if you had any common sense you pack up that kid brother of yours and move away. You always talked about how you wanted to take the kid someplace sunny, right? Wanted to take him to the ocean? Move to California, as far away from this place as you can.”

“Only if you tell me who is threatening you and us,” Bucky insisted. “And why that person has so much power he or she can destroy you in prison.”

Closing his eyes and letting out a breath, Brock shook his head, “I’m a dead man walking already.” He looked back at Bucky and continued, “Jackie and I worked for someone, Sport. It’s a long story but basically, Jackie and I got into deep shit when we were kids and needed a way out. He got us out but we . . . we _owed_ him. For his continued protection we had to pay. We didn’t pay up, he’d quit protecting us . . . and once he quit protecting us, we’re dead because we know too much, ya know? Things were going fine. We’d rob a few places, make it so no one placed the pattern. Went on like that for years. Then you showed up.”

“Have you told your lawyer any of this? Law enforcement? Or is the man in charge part of law enforcement,” Bucky lowered his voice as he asked, leaning forward, his detective’s instincts kicking in.

“It wouldn’t matter if I did, Barnes. Think they’re listening to me? As far as they know, I’m just a greedy, dirty cop who raped his junior partner and tried to blow up his special needs brother,” Brock met Bucky’s eyes and sighed, “you made connections you weren’t supposed to.”

“Brock, if you really are sorry about what’s happening, and this man really is so dangerous to TJ and I, you need to give me more, a name or something. I can’t run. He’d follow. You know how mobs and stuff work.” Bucky met his ex-boyfriend’s eyes. “I don’t pretend I can save you, but if you want to save me and my brother, please . . . give me what I need to get free.”

“His name is Alexander Pierce, I’m sure you’ve heard of him? Head of Hydra Corporations?” Brock lowered his voice, so only Bucky could barely hear him. “He knows that you figured out the link between the crime scenes, so he figures your kid brother knows too . . . since,” Brock sighed and let out a breath, “since I told him you tell the kid everything.”

“Which was stupid since I never tell Teej about the crimes,” Bucky ran his only hand through his nearly shaved hair. “Okay, so the amnesia thing won’t get me protected, either? The only way I can fight is to try to link Pierce. Damn.”

“Barnes, you go after Pierce and you’re dead. TJ is dead,” Brock insisted.

“Brock,” Bucky met the other man’s eyes intently, “I’m already dead. Bomb in apartment, remember?”

“Then, get outta town!” Brock hissed, intent on protecting the man he’d gotten in danger.

“And have him send people after us? Or take down Stevie and Loki and Clint and Nat and others?” Bucky shook his head. “I can’t protect any of them if I run, despite TJ. I can’t hide when those I’ve grown to care about are sitting targets if this man thinks I told them things.”

“Look,” Brock let out a breath, glancing over his shoulder, “I got a security box at a bank in Brooklyn. That’s where I was comin’ from when I saw you and your brother goin’ into that medical office. There’s evidence in there, links that Pierce supplied Jackie and I means to do some jobs I ain’t proud of. If you’re too damn stubborn to run, get these documents, Barnes. You and Jackie are the only two people I have listed as people who could have access to it.”

Bucky lifted his hand and placed it on the barrier. “I’m sorry this happened, Brock. We were good once, right? In the beginning?”

“In the beginning,” Brock murmured, placing his hand on the barrier across from Bucky’s, “you were all I wanted. I wanted to take you and run to Fiji, swim under those pretty waterfalls they show in those pictures in those travel mags, ya know.” Brock offered Bucky a sad smile, “I fucked up, Sport.”

  
  


“Maybe some other place and time, we did just that.” Bucky sighed and stood, knowing by a signal from a guard that time ended. “Look, if you manage to live, maybe things can go better once I get this sorted. And if not . . . I forgive you for going bad. Maybe in time I can forgive you for the pain, too.”

“I love you, ya know, Sport. I really did,” Brock sighed, standing up when the guard tapped his shoulder.

“If you get locked in solitary, are you safer there?” Bucky asked softly.

“I’m not safe anywhere, Sport,” Brock sighed softly.

Nodding, Bucky said, “then, rest afterwards. I’ll make sure you and Rollins are next to each other. The least I could do for the man I used to love. Just list me as the person your body goes to, and I promise to do right by you.”

“Thanks, Sport,” Brock gave Bucky a very small smile, “you’re a good man and a better cop.”

“You could have been. If things were different. Goodbye, Brock.” Bucky stepped back and watched them lead the prisoner away. Only moments later, he had Scott take him to Brock’s bank. He hoped he might get that evidence before Pierce could have Brock killed. He called Hill on his way as well as Fury. If Brock was telling the truth, he wanted Pierce and his cronies arrested as soon as possible to prevent deaths in their ranks. Maybe even get Rumlow into Witness Protection if he remained cooperative. Maybe Brock could get to the ocean in California after all.

**************

“Bucky,” TJ whined, scrunching up his nose as Bucky proceeded to slather even more of the thick sunscreen over TJ’s pale skin, “I wanna go play!” He looked towards the crowded pier with the large roller coaster and other rides, as well as all the games and other activities Coney Island had to offer. Really, Cho’s new medicine and therapy regimen seemed to work miracles on TJ. The eighteen year old really thrived and seemed to want to go anywhere and everywhere Bucky allowed him to go. He still had his episodes and bad days, but things were really starting to look up for the traumatized teen.

“I don’t want you to burn, baby,” Bucky insisted as he carefully coated TJ’s ears and nose, his own flesh hand covered in the bright white lotion.

“You’ve been puttin’ it on _forever_!” TJ said, meeting his brother’s eyes as the older brunet covered his ears with the lotion. “I wanna go on that!” TJ pointed to the large Ferris Wheel, one of the least intense rides that didn’t scare TJ.

“I found . . .” Loki’s voice cut off as he stopped beside TJ, ice-green eyes widening. “O . . . kay . . .” Shaking his head the nurse asked, “so, what are you pretending to be now, Teej, with all that lotion?”

“Bucky won’t stop puttin’ it all over me!” TJ complained to his nurse and platonic boyfriend. “I jus’ wanna go play!”

“Bucky,” Steve chuckled, coming up behind his boyfriend, placing his hand on the shoulder of Bucky’s left arm, the stump of the arm hidden by the prosthetic and t-shirt Bucky wore. “Okay, I think that’s enough sunscreen! Look at ‘im, he’s as pale as Casper!”

“I don’t want him to burn,” Bucky explained again, looking from Steve to Loki, who held the tickets.

Loki chuckled and pulled out some napkins, wiping off the majority of lotion. “A thin coating is fine, Bucky. You’ll smother his pores otherwise.” He finished and smiled at the eighteen year old. “Better, darling?”

Grinning brightly, TJ nodded, wrapping his arms around Loki and hugging him, “yes! Thank you!” He pulled back just enough so he could look up at Loki, “are you gonna ride the rides with me, Loki? I don’t wanna ride all of them, and Bucky says that’s okay.”

“I will ride whatever you want, TJ.” Loki leaned in and gently brushed his lips over TJ’s forehead then backed up. “Ready?”

Steve gently took the sunscreen from the bench beside Bucky and slipped it into the backpack he carried on his back. He swiped his hand over the leftover lotion that covered Bucky’s flesh hand, the metal one clean, and covered his own face in a thin layer, and then moved to do the same to Bucky. “He’s going to be fine, Buck,” Steve murmured softly, dropping a kiss to Bucky’s lips, rubbing whatever had been left of the lotion into Bucky’s skin.

“He’s . . . finally out and in a large crowd, Steve, and _wants_ to be.” Bucky wanted to cry in happiness at the wonderful changes wrought in his brother over the past months. He wondered just how Brock did in his new identity then shook off the wonder. Bucky rarely let himself think about his former lover. Time would come soon enough when Brock and Bucky, both, would face Pierce and his men in a courtroom.

“Yes, and he’s gonna leave you behind if we don’t hurry,” Steve chuckled, offering his hand to his boyfriend.

A shudder ripped through Bucky at the idea of TJ leaving. He took Steve’s hand but his eyes followed the younger brunet worriedly.

TJ held hands with Loki, pointing out things he saw excitedly, as if this were the first time he’d ever been to the amusement park. Bucky and TJ had both been to Coney Island before as children but, after the accident, amusement parks hadn’t even been on the radar since TJ would barely leave the house.

Steve dropped a kiss to Bucky’s temple, “I love you,” the police sketch artist murmured happily.

Turning his face to meet Steve’s eyes, Bucky smiled softly. “I love you, too, Stevie. I am so damn glad Loki suggested your place to move to last year.” Turning his head once more, Bucky hurriedly picked TJ and Loki out of the crowd and relaxed a little once he did so. “It’s been good for both me and TJ.”

TJ turned, twisting his body so he still held Loki’s hand in his, “Buck! Wanna go on this ride?” TJ pointed up at the Ferris Wheel again, grinning happily. The eighteen year old didn’t look the least bit nervous, despite the large crowd surrounding him.

Nodding, Bucky tugged Steve up to the other pair and said, “I’d love to. This was your favorite ride when we were little, you know?”

“I liked this ride?” TJ tilted his head a bit and then let his head fall back to look up at the tall ride. “Hear that, Lucky? This was my favorite!”

“Then we really should try it out to see if it’s still your favorite, darling,” Loki chuckled, lightly squeezing TJ’s hand as he guided the group into line for the popular ride.

Steve kissed Bucky’s temple again, having no issues whatsoever displaying his affection for anyone to see. They stepped into the line for the popular ride and waited until it was their turn to get on. Much to the surprise of everyone, TJ had absolutely no trouble getting into the ride, sitting right next to his brother, across from Loki and Steve. TJ let out a happy giggle as the ride started to move, watching as they went higher, looking over the large expanse of ocean.

“Look, Buck!” TJ pointed out the over the edge but not moving close enough to it that he was in any danger of falling out. “We’re as high as the birds, huh?”

“Yeah, we are,” Bucky grinned widely. “Maybe someday they’ll even land on the car and fly with us, huh?” the older man answered the younger with the expression he’d always used to TJ’s bird observation, not thinking through the banter in the enjoyment of the moment.

TJ nuzzled up against Bucky’s left side, no longer nervous at the sight that his brother had been so badly hurt. “I love you, Buck,” TJ said, his eyes still on the beautiful view. “You’re the bestest brother in the whole wide world.”

“Not uh,” Bucky said, gently. “You’re the bestest brother, and I love _you_ , TJ.” Bucky turned his head to bump at TJ’s, careful of the scar. “Love you so, so much, baby brother.”

“We’re gonna be together forever, huh?” TJ asked, looking over at Steve and Loki and then up at Bucky, “all four of us? We’re gonna be together forever?”

“As forever as we can manage, yeah,” Bucky affirmed, smiling happily, touching foreheads with his beloved baby brother. Bucky Barnes felt at peace for the first time in a very long time.


End file.
